


We Remain The Same

by the_fluff_awakens



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Author does not know where the hell she's going with this, Be patient God is not finished with me yet, Blow Jobs, Disgraced General Hux, Down the trash compactor most probably, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, Gay Sex, Gratuitous after shower steamy scene, I really could not decide between the two tbh, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Original Character Death(s), Scruffy Hux because reasons, Self-Denial, Self-Destruction, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Sexual Content, What do I even do with this, bear with me, self-punishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 11:25:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 43,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6282694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_fluff_awakens/pseuds/the_fluff_awakens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The last thing he sees, the last image that manages to push through the thinning fog that is his consciousness, is Hux. The whole planet is crumbling around them, the sky coming down like punishment for his failure, his whole body in agonizing pain, and there is Hux, his normally perfectly plastered down hair whipping around his head in the wind like the flames on a torch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing for this fandom, and tbh I don't know where the hell I'm going with this. Hux making out while in emotional pain just came to me one night and I felt like going with it.
> 
> Ok, so according to the new HD gifs currently flooding Tumblr right now, Ren sustained some very serious injuries on his shoulder. I did not catch that, if I had this would be a very different story. He would still be writhing in pain after having his tendons ripped or something. It looked way nastier than any of his other injuries. So let's just pretend Rey didn't cut up his shoulder, kay? At least for this universe. Haha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three days after Kylo Ren is inexplicably saved from a crumbling planet by the skinniest man in the galaxy, he now has to contend with his lush savior trying to have his way with him.

The last thing he sees, the last image that manages to push through the thinning fog that is his consciousness, pushing away the almost painful one of the scavenger turning her back and disappearing into the darkness, is Hux. The whole planet is crumbling around them, the sky coming down like punishment for his failure, his whole body in agonizing pain, and there is Hux, his normally perfectly plastered down hair whipping around his head in the wind like the flames on a torch, face hard and pale as usual, but there's something else there behind his eyes. Panic? Fear? Guilt?

_"Ren!"_

His name, screamed but also somehow sounding like a whisper, is the last thing he hears before he finally succumbs to the darkness.  


  


* * *

  


_Kylo Ren knew it had been a mistake to show General Hux his unmasked face._

_When they'd first met, the lithe general had been intimidated, though he'd done an immaculate job at hiding this, Ren's exceptional sensitivity to the Force the only thing that had tipped him off about the other man's true feelings. Hux hadn't let his demeanor change as he approached, shoulders still pulled back, chin high, lip in a sneer. His thoughts, however, told a different story._

_"Bloody hell! What manner of monstrosity is this? It's a fucking walking mountain is what it is!"_

_Ren had smiled behind his mask, amused and actually quite impressed with Hux's ability to conceal his fear. The next few weeks, he'd sensed Hux's unease around him, his thoughts often wandering off to his appearance._

_"Probably hideously deformed. Probably has one eye, or covered in burns."_

_It sometimes actually required some great effort on his part to keep from chuckling. That probably would have sounded odd under the voice modulator._

_It had been such a cataclysmic error when he'd removed his helmet in the conference room while waiting for Snoke to call. He had been alone, and feeling somewhat parched, so he had taken off his helmet, placed it on the table, and poured himself some water. That was when the door had slid open to reveal the general, looking down at the datapad in his hands as he strode confidently into the room. There had been a beat, when Kylo Ren thought he'd have the time to put his helmet back on, or maybe turn around, but he had frozen in place, glass to his lips, and anyway, Hux had already looked up. He had paused mid-stride, eyebrows cocking up, mouth falling open. Ren would have listened to what he was thinking, but the sudden appearance of Snoke's image behind him caught the general's attention, quickening his steps to stand next to him._

_After the call ended, Hux had merely given him a curt nod before leaving the room. A quick search of his mind had only indicated the general's growing plans regarding Snoke's orders. The feeling of great discomfort that usually hung around him whenever Ren was near, however, had now completely dissipated._

_The following day, the snide remarks had started. And all because he had wanted a stupid drink._  
  


* * *

  
Consciousness comes in waves, pushing through his mind and pulling back just as quickly, leaving behind flashes of sounds and images. Low voices, murmuring somewhere near, puntuated by the beepings of unknown machines. A small woman, hunched over him, shining a small torch light at his eyes. And always Hux, standing by his foot, or else by his side, his lip in its perpetual sneer like he'd just stepped on something awful.

When he finally wakes up, he is alone in his own bedroom in his quarters, surrounded by machines he can only guess are synched to the various wireless nodes attached to his arms and chest. He blinks several times, even the faint light from a lamp in the den too bright after sleeping so long. He hears voices speaking in low tones outside, male and female, and because he was the one constant in Ren's often fleeting consciousness, he calls out, "Hux?"

His voice is raspy, weak from disuse and he swallows painfully before trying again. "Who's there?"

The conversation in the other room falters, and he hears someone walk towards his room. A man he does not recognize steps through the door hesitantly, followed by the small woman who was fussing over him before. They're both in the standard uniform he often sees the medics aboard the Finalizer wearing.

"Lord Ren, good to see you awake, sir," the man says shakily, clasping his hands behind his back before turning to the woman next to him. "Shall I inform the General he's conscious?" Ren notes the doctor's unease at being this close to an extremely volatile patient. He almost smiles at the word—volatile.

He waits for the woman's answering nod before he gives Ren another simpering smile and leaves. The woman rushes to his side when he tries to sit up, actually puts her tiny hand on his shoulder before snatching it away when he glares at her.

"You really shouldn't get up just yet, sir," she says, her voice steadier than her colleague's. "Your blaster wound hasn't fully healed."

He looks down at his bandaged hip, remembers how and why he got it, and it starts to hurt again. He supposes he only imagines this, he can tell they've pumped him with enough painkillers to make his whole body numb. He lies back down, but continues to glare at the doctor. She's really quite small, not exactly young, but tiny with hands that look like a doll's.

"How long have I been here?"

 _How long have I been unconscious_ is what he really wants to ask, but he thinks it makes him sound pathetic.

"Three days," she informs him, stepping back when his eyes darken. "It was the general's command, to sedate you so you could properly recover," she adds hastily.

"Three full days, I've just been fucking _sleeping_ here while the Resistance celebrates and plots their next move?" he snaps, his voice cracking. He snatches the glass of water she offers him and downs it in one gulp, ignoring her warnings to sip it slowly. He gags and coughs, slamming the glass onto his side table too hard and shattering it. 

Perfect. Now his hand is bleeding.

"Oh dear," the doctor mumbles, running out of the room and coming back with some bandages and medicine.

"Where are we headed?" he asks angrily as he watches her fuss over his hand.

"I don't know, sir. I'm sure the general will inform you as soon as he gets here."

But Hux doesn't get there for hours, and not because he's busy with anything important. A quick search of the ship tells Ren that the general was informed of his condition through his personal comlink because he was nowhere to be found in the bridge. He's just sitting in front of his desk in his own quarters now, staring blankly at his computer screen, and nursing a drink of amber liquid. A half empty cylindrical bottle containing the same drink sits at the edge of the table.

He's had to eat two meals and endure the humiliation of getting the bandages on his hip redressed by the tiny doctor before Ren finally hears the general in the living room. He's consulting with the doctors about Ren's condition, whether he's had his dinner, how his wounds are healing. By the time he shows up at the door, Ren has worked himself up again.

"Where do you _fucking_ get off putting me under for _three fucking days_?" he yells, thankful now that his voice doesn't crack anymore.

"Nice to see your temper hasn't suffered any damage," Hux says, ignoring his question entirely.

"Hux," he barks. He watches as Hux approaches his bed, peering at his monitors like he even understands what the flashing numbers and beeping sounds mean.

Something's different about Hux, Ren's just noticed. His hair is longer, or maybe it just looks that way because he's chosen not to comb it back like he usually does. There's stubble on his jaw as well, thicker than the usual shadow he sees on Hux by the time dinner is served at the mess hall. He's obviously lost weight, his uniform not fitting him the way it did before, and the stupid greatcoat he always wears around his shoulders looks even more like a tent around him. His cheekbones jut out, making him look even more severe than normal. The biggest change is in his eyes, though. They've always looked tired—Ren supposed he never got enough sleep, because that's just how Hux is—but now they look...dead. They're red and almost puffy, his eyelids heavy.

"You look like shit," he finally says, anger suddenly gone.

Hux just turns to look at him, his eyebrows raised and Ren hears it in his mind:

_Shall I have someone fetch you a mirror?_

Feeling self conscious, Ren runs a hand through his jaw, feels his own stubble and huffs. Hux's eyes fall on the newly bandaged hand and shakes his head.

"Only you would manage to acquire more injuries without even having to leave your bed."

Ren's eyebrows meet in an angry scowl, but he chooses to ignore the jibe.

"Do you still need an explanation for the sedation?" Hux asks, the monitor in front of him drawing his attention again. "It was as much for the protection of the crew as it was for yours."

"Have you heard from Snoke?"

Hux grabs the chair by Ren's desk, drags it near the bed and sits. He looks tired from the effort.

"He ordered me to fetch you and bring you to him. You're to finish your training. We're on our way to him right now." 

There is a pause, heavy in the air, and neither of them can look at each other. 

"We'll be there in a week. The ship's taken some damage, otherwise we'd have been there by now. Take this extra time to heal and regain your strength, I have a feeling you'll need it."

Hux produces a datapad from inside his greatcoat and proceeds to tap and scroll away at it. After a while of staring, Ren finally has to ask.

"What are you doing?"

"Hmm?" Hux mutters, eyes lifting from the pad to briefly look at him. "Just reviewing today's reports from Phasma."

"What are you doing it here for?" He doesn't bother to hide the annoyance in his voice.

"I've dismissed the medics for the night."

A beat, Ren still confused.

"And?"

"Someone has to stay with you," Hux says matter of factly. "Especially now that you're awake."

Ren watches him, still a bit perplexed as to why he, himself, has to be the one on watch.

"Huh," he mutters. "I assumed you'd always have important matters to attend to at all hours."

"I do," Hux says, eyes back on his pad. The light from it illuminates his face harshly, all angles and harsh lines. "But I have surrounded myself with a competent staff that can handle things in my absence."

Ren turns his eyes on the ceiling, oddly calmed by Hux's proximity. They spend a few hours this way, Ren drifting in and out of sleep, Hux staring intently on his datapad.

  


* * *

  


_  
He had had enough of Hux's sarcastic retorts, often regarding his mask—or as Hux liked to refer to it, a bucket as useful as a Gampassa's shell. If there had been one thing Kylo Ren did not stand for, it's someone not cowering in the face of his rage._

_After a particularly nasty encounter at the bridge, which had resulted in his staring dumbfoundedly at Hux's retreating form unable to come up with an equally witty retort, he had stormed after the general, determined to give him a piece of his mind. To his utter dismay, he had been led to Hux's personal quarters, which were, as he had suspected, the most orderly rooms he had ever seen. Not one piece of clothing on the floor, not a pen out of place, nor an unwashed glass on the sink in the tiny kitchen._

_While Hux had been surprised to find Kylo Ren standing in the middle of his receiving room when he'd turned to remove his greatcoat, he had not let his face reveal it. Instead, he'd entered his bedroom without saying a word, returning a few moments later sans coat._

_"What can I do for you, Ren?" The question had been asked sharply as he had rolled up his sleeves, looking at the knight curiously._

_"I have had enough of your snide comments, General," he had answered simply. "It will desist immediately."_

_The smirk that had formed on Hux's mouth grated at his self-control. Oh, what he would've done to wipe that smirk off._

_"I'm afraid I can't take you seriously with that thing on."_

_The dismissive gesture he'd made towards Ren's mask had most definitely been uncalled for. Closing the distance between them in two short strides, he had loomed over Hux, debating whether force choking him was worth the trouble of a reprimand from Snoke. In the end, though he could not say why, he had opted to press the release button on his helmet instead, removing it in what he had hoped was a menacing way._

_Upclose, the blue in Hux's eyes is disarming. Or had it been the way his right eyebrow had raised slowly, raking over his features as if he'd just measured the knight and had found him wanting? Ren had seen another smirk forming, the corner of Hux's mouth twitching infinitesimally as if in slow motion, and really,_ he just had had enough.

_Perhaps he had been a bit too harsh in grabbing the back of the general's head, or in crushing their mouths together, because there was a dull ache that throbbed somewhere inside the smaller man. And yet, Hux had ignored said ache, had simply unfolded under Ren's touch and allowed him to deepen the kiss. Ren had not noticed his movements, but somehow, one of Hux's hands had pushed the helmet between them away, the other resting on his chest. Slowly, almost shakily, both hands had come to rest on the cowl around his neck, pulling him even closer. The continued throbbing of the ache in Hux's chest had just grown strong enough to cause a little twist in his own stomach when the general took a deep breath, pushed against his neck to let go of his mouth, and released his breath in a heavy sigh. He had rested his forehead against Ren's chin briefly to compose himself before taking two steps back._

_"Hux." Ren had not known what to say other than his name, and he'd reached out to grab his waist when the general took more steps and turned around._

_"Get out." It had not been said angrily. He'd said it so quietly, Ren had almost mistaken it for his thoughts. "Please get out."_

_The following day, the taunts about his mask had stopped altogether, and Hux had started to avoid even looking anywhere near his direction._  
  


* * *

  
Ren jerks awake from a nasty dream to find the seat next to his bed empty but for the greatcoat hanging on its back, Hux's datapad next to his leg. Someone has taken away the machines, as well as the wireless nodes attached to his body. He can hear Hux in the other room, shuffling around. He sits up, despite repeated warnings from the doctors not to, and swings his legs off the bed. The floor is cold on his bare feet, but it feels good to be back on them. He stretches his arms over his head, bends his back just a little so as not to stretch his hip wound, and walks out of his room.

He finds Hux rummaging through his kitchen cupboards, growing increasingly annoyed at not being able to find whatever he's looking for. A quick peek into his head informs Ren that the general is looking for some alcohol.

"There's a bottle of Johrian whiskey in the next one," he says, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the door frame.

Hux turns around abruptly, his eyebrows knitting together angrily. "What are you doing? Get back in bed!"

He waves his hand dismissively and walks to the armchair instead, flopping down carelessly. "I'm fine. I know what my own body can and can't handle. Just relax and have that drink."

"I wasn't looking for a drink," Hux lies, still scowling.

"Oh yeah?" He purses his lips to keep from grinning.

"Ugh, that force thing is so inconvenient," Hux sighs, turning around and grabbing the bottle from the cupboard.

Ren laughs and watches as Hux pours himself a big drink. He returns the bottle before settling down on the armchair opposite Ren's. After taking a sip of his drink, Hux stares at him, blue eyes running through the planes of his face. Another peek into the general's fuzzy thoughts tells Ren he feels sad. Sad and... _weirdly attracted?_ He realizes that Hux is admiring the scar bisecting his face, or more precisely, the way it makes him look darker and more menacing. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling, ducks his head in embarrassment. 

"What?" Hux asks lazily, taking another sip. "What are you giggling about over there?"

"Nothing," he answers, shaking his head and returning Hux's stare. He feels his face burning the longer Hux holds his gaze. Finally, he has to break it again. All those painkillers are really doing a number on him. He gets up and heads for the kitchen.

"You better not be fixing yourself a drink, Ren," Hux calls from his chair. "You're under medication."

"I'm just getting a glass of water," he answers, gulping down the drink because he's unbelievably thirsty for reasons he does not want to dwell on.

He turns around and suddenly Hux is behind him—and really, _what the hell are those painkillers doing to his senses, how can Hux sneak up on him like that?_ —looking like his steeling himself up for something. Their brows furrow at the same time, his in confusion, Hux's in concentration as he steps closer and grabs the collar of Ren's shirt. Hux pulls, almost weakly, and brings their lips together in a tentative kiss. His eyes are closed tightly like he's in pain, and Ren feels it in his chest—Hux's pain, a lot sharper than the last time. His eyelashes are almost white, Ren stupidly observes, before he closes his own eyes and grabs Hux's small wrists in his hands, startling him and making him whimper in a different kind of pain.

They're deep into the kiss, one of his hands now burried in Hux's messy hair, the other clutching at his tiny waist while Hux still clung to his collar almost angrily, when Hux starts to step back, pulling him along. Ren determines from his thoughts what he intends to do, and he pulls his head away, wrapping Hux in his arms instead. Hux starts kissing his neck, pulling his collar down, and Ren almost relents.

"Hux," he warns, his breathing ragged. "Let's not do this now."

"Why not?" Hux asks, trailing kisses along his jaw, making noises that are threatening Ren's self-control. "Don't you want this?"

"Of course I want this," he almost growls, his hands tightening around Hux's waist. He pushes him away gently, holding him at arm's length, because really, he is still just a man whose control is very limited. "But you are drunk, and probably won't remember any of this tomorrow. And that, I _definitely_ do not want."

"I'm not drunk!" Hux says incredulously, gesturing to the drink sitting on the coffee table in the den. "I haven't even finished my drink."

"You haven't finished _that_ drink," Ren corrects him, and Hux almost wilts, like a little kid caught in a blatant lie. "Let's just get you into bed, okay?"

"That's exactly where I've been trying to get you," Hux says, trying to step closer to him again.

"To get some sleep!" Ren explains, chuckling and hating himself. "You look like you could use a lot of it."

"Where the hell is the fun in that?" Hux asks, his voice deep, and Ren has to laugh at his attempt to be seductive.

"Stop it," he playfully commands. He walks to the bedroom, grabbing hold of Hux's upper arms, keeping them secure against his sides, and tries to ignore Hux's eyes staring up at him. When they reach the bed, he looks down to see Hux biting his swollen lip, staring at Ren's mouth. "Damn it, Hux," he mutters, setting him down and kneeling next to him. He takes off Hux's boots, ignores how good it feels when Hux's fingers comb through his hair. He considers taking off Hux's pants so he'll be more comfortable, but that will not be helpful to either of them.

"Move," he orders softly, pulling back the covers and smiling when Hux obeys and settles in on the other side of the bed. He tucks Hux under the blanket before sliding over it next to him.

"Aww," Hux whines, trying to pull the blanket under Ren's heavy body.

"Go to sleep, Hux," Ren says, pulling him closer and letting him snuggle against his chest. "We'll see if you still want this in the morning."

Hux starts to protest, and Ren can hear his thoughts weakly insisting that he knows what he wants, that it's not just the alcohol, before he immediately falls asleep. Hux feels so small in his arms, having grown even slighter since the events at Starkiller Base, and Ren pulls him in closer, anticipating another fight when morning brings rational thought to the general's mind. The tired but content smile on his face is not an unwelcome diversion from his normally stoic features.

The last thing he sees, the last image in his head, is the thought of Hux waking up and frantically trying to disentangle his body from Ren's, before he finally succumbs to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on [tumblr](http://the-fluff-awakens.tumblr.com/).


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux has a bad habit of punishing himself, and Ren might just be his worst punishment of all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, look! A second chapter! *cheers*
> 
> I'll be adding tags as I go along. The self-harm mentioned in the tags is not exactly the conventional kind of self-harm. Hux is not a cutter, but he is not averse to letting his body go through pain and sometimes even actively seeks it out.

Hux awakes to the faint sound of a comlink beeping. He burrows deeper under the blankets, presses his face closer to the warm neck against his forehead, the slow rhythmic pulse under its skin calming him back to sleep. The beeping starts again after an hour that feels a lot like mere seconds.

His head hurts, but he's used to that by now. Since the destruction of his career-defining planetary weapon, his mornings have always started late and painful. What he is unaccustomed to, however, is the feeling of being wrapped around someone else's body, of his senses being assaulted by said person's presence—from the fresh clean scent, to the sounds of deep and steady breathing. It's not at all an unwelcome addition to his morning.

His eyes slowly open, one at a time, and he looks up to see Ren's strong jaw, his full mouth just slightly parted, the long slope of his neck, the protruding knot bobbing up and down as he swallows in his sleep. The hardness between Hux's legs is a familiar, but almost forgotten sensation, and it's currently pressing against Ren's hip. Cursing in his mind, he inches away from the other man's sleeping form, hoping not to rouse him. Checking to make sure that his current bedmate is still asleep, he rolls out of the bed, dropping to the cold floor on the balls of his feet. He feels foolish after having done so, as if he's sneaking out on someone he's just had drunken sex with.

The thought gives him pause, trying to recall the events of last night. He looks down to see that he's still in his full uniform, and breathes a sigh of relief. _...Of disappointment?_ He straightens up, looking down at the still sleeping Ren, long dark hair a mess that frames his almost childlike face. The partially healed gash marring that face should really make him unappealing—it certainly would make anyone else hideous—and yet Hux imagines running his fingers over it in wonder, likes the way it makes Ren look grittier. It's a mark that he'll have to carry forever, a reminder of what transpired on that frozen failure of a planet. Hux's own scars, both emotional and physical, will remain hidden to everyone else. He tugs on the sleeves of his shirt, fiddles with the cuffs absentmindedly before exiting the bedroom.

The first thing he sees in the den is his unfinished drink, reminding him of his pitiful attempts at getting Ren into bed. Having woken up fully clothed next to him, his body aching in all the wrong unsatisfied places, produces a softer kind of sting than his previous failures.

He walks to the refresher to relieve himself, half-embarrassed of having to stand in an awkward angle over the toilet. He washes his hands, annoyed that the hardness in his pants has still not gone away even though he knew urinating wouldn't do anything to help. For a brief but shameful moment, he considers taking care of it himself, but he reminds himself that he's not in his private quarters and that Ren could wake up any moment. The idiot would somehow know about it, through _the force_ or something, and he'd have to live with that insufferable man's taunting looks for the rest of his miserable life.

Besides, he doesn't deserve relief after all that's gone down.

He takes a deep breath after splashing his face with water, willing his body to obey orders, and it gradually does. By the time he exits the refresher, Ren is standing bleary-eyed in the small kitchen, messy hair tied up in a bun, pouring caf into two steel mugs. He hands one to Hux and walks to the den without saying a word, sits down on the same armchair he'd occupied the night before. Hux follows and notes that the glass of whiskey is now gone from the coffee table as he takes his own seat.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, Hux sighing contentedly into his mug when he breathes in the scent of warm caffeine, drawing Ren's eyes to him. He's about halfway through his drink when Ren puts his empty mug down on the table and watches him intently. He looks away, uneasy under that kind of almost intimate scrutiny, staring at the cluttered mess on the shelves behind Ren's chair. There are various pieces of metal whose functions Hux could only guess at, a small blue and yellow rubber ball he somehow could not picture Ren even holding in his hands, a few heavy-looking pyramid-like objects with strange markings, one bronze cube that looked somehow similar and different at the same time to the triangular objects around it.

"How did you sleep?"

Ren's voice wakes him up more than the caf, sounding too loud in the prolonged silence. Ren smiles when he flinches a little, because the bastard is a fucking sadist.

"Uncomfortably," he grunts into his mug. Ren's smile grows wider, and Hux knows he's been caught in a lie.

"Really?" Ren presses, elbows resting on the arms of his chair, hands clasped loosely in front of him. "I had the most comfortable sleep of my life."

"Yes, well, you were in your fucking pyjamas, weren't you?" The words were out of his mouth before he could think, and he closes his eyes as if to brace himself against Ren's reply.

"Well, I would've removed your pants, but-"

"Shut up," he says through gritted teeth, finishing his caf and setting it down on the table a bit too hard. Ren's just smiling at him in amusement, and really, someone who's ruthlessly murdered people with his own hands should not even _be allowed_ to smile like that.

Hux gets up abruptly, ignoring the way Ren's gaze follows his every movement, and goes to retrieve his com link from the bedroom. He checks his messages, most of them reports from Phasma regarding the training of some new troopers, and startles when he notices the time. He's about to grab his greatcoat and datapad in a hurry when he catches himself, and walks back to the den aimlessly without so much as a boot on. There really is no point, the ship still functions without his physical presence on the bridge. He settles back into his seat as he unbuttons his shirt's collar, answers Phasma's queries and confirmations about orders he'd previously made.

After he's done answering and sending more orders, he puts his com link down and finds Ren still watching him. He sighs heavily and raises his eyebrows, determined not to break eye contact this time. They look away from each other at the same time when someone requests entry into Ren's quarters.

"That must be Arias, come to redress your-" He motions vaguely at Ren's hip as he gets up. "Give me a moment before you let her in."

He returns to the bedroom, pulling his socks and boots on and hanging his coat over his shoulders. He runs his fingers through his hair, cursing Ren for not having even a small mirror in his room, and walks back out just hoping for the best appearance-wise. He finds Ren standing in the den, fists clenched and feet apart like he's preparing for battle. His face no longer has that soft smile that grates at Hux's patience. He gives him a brief nod, watches as Ren waves his fingers in the air almost dismissively. The door slides open, revealing the tiny doctor.

"Good morning, Lord Ren," she greets almost tentatively. She turns with a steadier smile at Hux. "General."

"I'll leave you two then," Hux says curtly, avoiding Ren's gaze. "Let me know of any new developments through my com."

He hesitates before turning to look at Ren, not quite making eye contact. "Lord Ren."

"General," Ren answers in an equally formal voice.

Hux exits the almost stifling quarters, as if Ren's rooms are too small for two grown men and a tiny woman, and takes a deep breath before heading for his own. He finds a tray of food waiting for him at his desk. He's never once ordered his meals to be delivered to his quarters, but Phasma had taken it upon herself to send a droid with a tray for him when he didn't show up for meals at the mess hall. He takes a piece of honey melon from the tray and pops it into his mouth before starting to undress.

Standing in his refresher, under the punishing cold stream of water, Hux's thoughts are preoccupied with bad memories from childhood— _his father's brutal hand across his face when he'd made a mistake, his mother's cold indifferent eyes that always just looked the other way_ —and the present— _Snoke's punishing glare after FN-2187's defection, his own helplessness as Starkiller imploded, the jarring image of a bloodied, unconscious Ren._ He stands hunched, watching soap suds dissolving around his feet.  


* * *

  
When he gets out of his refresher, there's another report, this time from Junior Officer Brentis, informing him that the repairs on hangar two have been completed. Normally, he would have gone to check on this himself, but he just sends a brief and dismissive reply, ordering Brentis to make sure everything is in proper working order.

He pours some Jhantorian wine into a clear wineglass before sitting in front of his desk. The bottle had been a gift from an ambassador whose planet he could not even remember, and he had been saving it for a special occassion. He'd opened it that night he'd retrieved Ren from Starkiller Base. Somehow, he didn't foresee any more special occassions in his near future. He pokes at his meal half-heartedly, ignoring the meats when one bite makes his stomach churn. He ends up just finishing the honey melon and drinking more wine, drifting to sleep with his glass still in his hand.

He is jolted awake by the glass floating out of his hand. He sits up in his chair to find Ren standing in front of him, hand raised lazily as the glass is gingerly placed on his desk. He feels the other man's eyes examining him, dark unfathomable eyes raking down his body, taking in his flimsy undershirt and uncharacteristically comfortable lounge pants.

"That chair cannot possibly be more comfortable than my bed," Ren finally says after a long silence.

"You'd be surprised," Hux mutters, then flinches when he feels the crick on his neck. "What are you doing here, Ren?" He doesn't even bother asking why the man thinks it's okay to just enter people's private quarters without asking.

Ren turns around, his hands clasped behind his back as he looks around the room. "The doctor has informed me my wound is better now. No chance of it splitting open anymore."

Hux stares at him, waiting for him to continue. He can't help but roll his eyes when Ren turns around to look back at him but doesn't say anything else. "She could have just sent me an update."

"I informed her that I would do so personally."

Hux brow furrows when the corner of Ren's mouth twitches, like he's holding something back.

"She says I can resume all... _physical_ activity."

They stare at each other for a long moment, Hux fighting to keep his breathing even. He does not appreciate being mocked for his actions last night, however drunkenly they had been made, and the scowl that forms on his face almost gives him another headache.

"I'm not mocking you," Ren says suddenly.

"Stay out of my head, Ren!"

"I'm not."

"In my head?"

"Mocking you. And also in your head. Your face says it all."

Hux stands up abruptly, almost toppling over his chair. His fists are clenched at his sides, his breathing heavy, and he needs to _fucking hit something._ He storms past Ren without saying a word, ignoring the eyes following him out of his own quarters.

At the back of his mind, he thinks it's a bad idea to leave Ren in his rooms. The man is a massive child, prone to tantrums and destructive behavior, and he quite likes the current state of his quarters. However, he isn't so sure staying in the same room as Ren is such a good idea right now. He's either going to sock the man across the face, or slam him against a wall in a fit of unbridled lust. Somehow he knows Ren will not leave his room now no matter how much he asks.

He finds himself in the empty training room, where he's spent most of his time since the fall of the base. He suspects that his suddenly constant presence in the room has driven the other officers away, because he has his run of the place most of the time. He stands in front of the heavy bag he's favored since the first time he realized hitting it repeatedly left bruises on his knuckles and wrists. He has since protected his hands and wrists with training wraps he'd gotten from Phasma, but they're in his room now where he doesn't care to return just yet, and he _just. needs. to. hit. something._

He takes a deep breath, a fruitless attempt to calm down, places his left foot forward and brings his fists up. The first punch from his right hand, admittedly a little harder than his usual ones, reverberates through his whole arm, like an echoing, very real and very present pain running from his knuckles to his elbow. He follows it with another punch from his other fist, not as hard, but still wonderfully cathartic. He finds himself favoring his left hand, an unconscious choice that might have something to do with him just maybe fracturing his other one. Phasma's warning voice is in his head, telling him what an amateur move it is to be doing this without his wraps, but the training room is empty and Hux likes the sound of his fists slapping against the leather bag. 

When he returns to his quarters an hour and a half later, Ren is mercifully no where in sight. His shoulders relax, and with that tension gone, his body is free to focus on the pain he willingly subjected it to. He checks the clock on his desk and realizes he barely has time for a shower. He's scheduled a meeting with Ren and Dr. Arias regarding Ren's injuries so he could properly assess whether the knight is well enough to meet with Snoke.

He takes his soaked shirt off on his way to his refresher, dropping it on the floor next to his almost equally soaked pants. He stands under the hot water just long enough to get rid of his sweat, running the soap over his body quickly but efficiently. He grits his teeth at the protests his arms put up, rinsing and drying himself off in a hurry.

He's in front of Ren's quarters a half hour later, hair still damp, now in his usual uniform. His left hand snakes out to secure his greatcoat around his shoulders before tapping the access pad next to the door to request entry. ( _Because he is a civilized man, unlike some people._ ) The door slides open to reveal an empty den, sounds of running water informing him that at least one person is going to be late for this meeting.

"I'll be out in a minute," Ren calls from inside his refresher when the water stops.

Hux is sitting on what he now sees as _his_ armchair when the access pad by the front door buzzes. He's about to answer it when Ren steps out of his refresher—hair dripping, naked chest wet with droplets of water—engulfed in steam. Hux swallows the lump in his throat when his eyes fall on the towel hanging low and loose around Ren's hip, half covering his now-pinkish wound.

"Give me a minute," Ren says as he disappears inside his bedroom.

Hux clenches his fists absentmindedly, closes his eyes at the pain it causes. Ren comes out of his room a few seconds later, barefoot and wearing nothing but a pair of black low-hanging loose pants and the towel hanging around his shoulders. Hux almost groans out loud.

"How are you?" Ren asks, looking at him with his brows furrowed, as he waves his hand in the air to let the doctor in. Hux briefly wonders why they even bothered putting the access pad in Ren's room.

"Good evening," Dr. Arias says as she walks inside, followed by her associate, Dr. Sigrid. "How are you feeling, Lord Ren?"

"Check the general's wrists, Doctor," Ren says, ignoring her pleasantries completely, eyes trained on the spot where Hux's coat conceals his right hand.

"I'm sorry?" she asks, completely taken aback. She looks at Hux as if to ask for an explanation.

"My wrists are fine," Hux scoffs, glaring at Ren. "We're here to discuss Lord Ren's recovery."

"Get them checked," Ren practically commands, and the two doctors exchange uncomfortable looks. "Or this meeting is over." It's just like Ren to throw them all out of his quarters.

Hux makes a show of rolling his eyes and removing his gloves, gritting his teeth when he pulls on the right one a little too quickly.

"Oh dear," Dr. Arias mutters, looking at the cuts on his knuckles and the quickly forming bruises on his wrists.

"Roll up your sleeves," Ren orders again, and Hux resists the urge to slap him. Ren must have read his mind because his mouth twists in an almost amused smile. "General."

Hux sighs as he rolls up his sleeves, not at all surprised to find more bruises trailing up his arms. "I was just at the training room," he explains lamely.

"And what? You had your stormtroopers stomp on your arms as part of their training?" Ren asks sarcastically.

"I left my wraps in my room!" Hux spits out before he composes himself and looks at the doctors. "It's nothing serious."

"Let me have a look," Dr. Arias says, taking his right hand in her tiny hands. "Meanwhile, Dr. Sigrid, please check on Lord Ren's wounds."

Hux watches irritably as the twitchy doctor approaches Ren, visibly sweating as he hunches to check on the hip wound. His attention is quickly drawn back to his own hand when Dr. Arias starts pressing down on his wrist gently, almost pulling his hand out of her grasp.

"I don't think there's a fracture, maybe just a sprain," she says, mostly talking to herself. "We can get it scanned to be sure-"

"There won't be any need for that," Hux says, cutting her off.

"At least let me wrap it and put some antiseptic on those knuckles."

Hux looks down at his skinned knuckles, remembering the faint blood stains he'd left on the leather bag in the training room. He nods in affirmation, just as Dr. Sigrid's choking noises fill the room.

"Ren!"

Sigrid is floating mid-air, clutching at his throat as Ren stands a few feet back, shoulders tensed, arm raised and hand curled in a choking motion.

"I _said_... Don't. Put. That. Shit. On. My. Face."

On the ground is a small glass jar with some sort of pink salve, contents spilled on the floor. A closer look informs Hux that some of it has been dabbed on Ren's hip wound already.

"Let him go, Ren!" Hux demands, grabbing Ren's shoulder with his bad hand and wincing in pain. 

Ren releases Sigrid immediately, and he turns to Hux as if nothing happened. "Be careful with that, will you?" he says angrily.

Ren actually has the audacity to scold him.

"Let the man do his job!" Hux retorts, teeth grit, left hand cradling his right.

"No," he says stubbornly like a petulant child. "Not on my face." Ren looks down at Hux in what he could only describe as fondness, before he scowls and turns around to sit down on his armchair.

Dr. Sigrid is slumped on the floor, clutching his throat and trying to clean the mess even as he struggles to get his breath back. Dr. Arias already has Hux's hand in hers again, applying some dark liquid on the knuckles like her colleague had not just been choked half to death. Hazards of the job, she seems to think. Hux is impressed.  


* * *

  
"Yes, Lord Ren is now well enough to leave his quarters," Dr. Arias informs them, and Ren is looking anywhere other than Hux, who chooses not to inform the good doctor that her patient has already been out and about without her knowledge. "There won't be any need for further check ups, unless the hip gives him any trouble."

"All right, thank you, Doctor," Hux says when Ren says nothing. They all get up from their seats except for Ren, who just watches as Hux walks the doctors out.

"When shall I be in your quarters to check on your injuries, sir?" Dr. Arias asks as she steps out of the door with a still visibly shaken Sigrid.

"There won't be any need for further check ups on me either," Hux answers dismissively. "I'll go to the medbay if needed." He presses the access pad to close the door between them.

Ren's still watching when he returns to the den, still watching when he removes his greatcoat and hangs it over the back of his armchair, still watching when he reaches for his data pad.

"What are you doing?" Ren asks quietly.

"Sending a message to Supreme Leader Snoke to let him know you're well enough to meet with him." He doesn't need to look up from his pad to know that Ren's still watching him.

"You can call him Snoke, it's just us," Ren says, sitting back to get more comfortable in his chair.

Hux ignores him and sends his message ( _"Lord Ren fully recovered and ready for briefing whenever you desire. Awaiting further instructions."_ ). He realizes he doesn't actually need to stay in Ren's private quarters anymore, and his gut twists at the thought. He's spent all his nights sitting by Ren's bed since the base's collapse.

 _IN his bed last night_ , his traitorous thoughts remind him.

He's about to get up when he hears Ren in his head.

_Don't go yet._

Hux clenches his fist, but he realizes the bandages keep him from doing so hard enough to cause himself any real pain. He's almost disappointed.

_Stop that, will you?_

He scowls at Ren. "Can we keep the talking out of my head please?"

Ren smiles that infernal smile again and Hux huffs before getting up. Ren's face falls.

"Don't-"

Ren stops mid-sentence when Hux walks to the kitchen, opening the cupboard where he keeps the whiskey. He's disappointed to find it gone, wonders if Ren drank it all himself.

"Have you finished that bottle al-"

He turns around to find Ren standing behind him, so close that he can feel the heat radiating from his still naked torso.

"I haven't," Ren answers, not needing to read his mind. He takes a step even closer, making Hux back up into the counter. "It's in the bedroom if you want to drink."

They stand like that for a while, both breathing heavily, Hux's thirst suddenly gone.

"I'd rather you didn't, though," Ren says, taking another step that brings him so close, his nose is almost touching Hux's.

"Why not?" Hux asks breathily, lost in Ren's dark eyes, Ren's freshly showered scent, Ren's warm naked chest.

Ren's tongue darts out to lick his lips, and Hux finds his eyes transfixed by the simple action.

"Because I want you to be sober for this," Ren says before his mouth covers Hux's in a slow tender kiss. The last time Ren had initiated a kiss, he'd been rough about the whole thing, grabbing at Hux angrily. There had been an ache inside Hux he couldn't quite explain, an ache he'd ignored as he let the bigger man do whatever he pleased. Upon later reflection, he'd realized the ache was caused by his deep desire for Ren—a desire he'd firmly kept locked down as an act of self-preservation.

Said ache rears up again this time, just as it did last night, but it has grown stronger and sharper as Ren's departure for Snoke's planet looms even closer. His hands find their way up Ren's chest, as they're wont to do, looking for fabric to draw the much taller man closer. Finding nothing but smooth bare skin, he settles for burying them in Ren's damp hair, pulling his head down hungrily as he opens his mouth to allow Ren's tongue access to his own.

Ren's hands on his hips pull him closer, and he grinds his all-too-familiar erection against him. This makes Ren grunt, his hold on Hux turning almost punishingly tight. 

The barest hint of a push from Hux makes Ren walk backwards, bringing him along, their hips still grinding against each other. Hux isn't aware when exactly they entered the bedroom, but he's suddenly thrown down on top of the bed, Ren's looming form quickly following him. Ren uses his elbows to prop himself up, placed on each side of Hux's head. Hux grows self-conscious as Ren just keeps staring down at him, and he knows his face has already turned an alarming shade of red. He's always hated that about his skin. When he's had just about enough of Ren's unnerving stare, he pushes his hips up, grinding impatiently and making Ren smile.

"A little impatient, are we?" Ren chuckles, bringing his head down to kiss Hux's neck.

"Fucking _do_ something already," he growls, though Ren is definitely doing all sorts of things to him right now. His breath hitches when Ren licks, then sucks at the skin behind his ear as he grinds down harder on him.

The buttons of his shirt start to unbotton themselves, and he actually laughs out loud.

"I'm no expert, but I think that might just be improper use of the force."

"Oh we're about to do some improper things, alright," Ren mutters as he trails kisses down Hux's now exposed chest, his hand reaching down to cup Hux between the legs.

" _Fuck,_ " Hux grits out, his hips bucking up involuntarily. He grabs a fistful of Ren's hair and groans when he's freed from his pants, bites his lip when he feels the warmth of Ren's mouth around him. " _Fucking...hell..._ " he pants.

The pain in his chest is almost unbearable, but Ren's mouth is determined to undo him—and he knows deep in his gut, that he's been a goner since that first kiss anyway.  


* * *

  
Hux sits in the dark, back against the headboard, lazily running his fingers through Ren's thick hair when his personal com link beeps from the floor where his pants have been discarded. He stretches to reach for it, Ren's heavy sleeping form draped on top of his legs keeping him locked in place.

The message is concise, but successfully snaps Hux back into reality.

 **Supreme Leader Snoke** : _"0900. Tomorrow. Usual holo channel. Your presence is not required."_

Hux's knuckles would've probably turned white were they not covered in dark antiseptic as he clutches his com link angrily. He tosses it on the bedside table, watches it skid to a halt next to the bottle of Johrian whiskey.

Hux drinks straight from the bottle as Ren dozes contentedly on his lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the written equivalent of panning to the lit fireplace when things get steamy. My only knowledge of M/M sex is from reading fanfiction, and I can't even pretend that I know how to write these two idiots having teh sex. I once wrote a hetero sex scene to challenge myself and that went so horribly. I don't want dicks flying all over the place, sticking into places they have no business being. 
> 
> So just imagine the sex was rough at times, tender at some, often frantic, but also amazing! LOL
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://the-fluff-awakens.tumblr.com/).


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren is in deep (emotions-wise, get your heads out of the gutter! but yes, also penis-wise), and is growing alarmingly protective of Hux.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, your eyes are not deceiving you. This fic has graduated from an M-rating to an E-rating. Let's all blame [NeverBeenACorpse](http://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverBeenACorpse/) for informing me that they wouldn't mind reading about dicks flying about and getting into strange places. Please keep in mind, though, that I really have no business writing M/M sex scenes, or any sex scenes for that matter, so forgive me for any weird imagery my writing may inflict upon you.

Ren wakes up tangled in Hux, their legs intertwined, one arm draped possessively across the smaller man's stomach, the other tucked under his own head. Hux, for his part, is still out for the count, though his hand is clenched tight around Ren's bicep.

He sits up slowly, careful not to wake the general, and sees Hux's other arm dangling out of the bed, the bottle of Johrian whiskey empty in his hand. Ren stares at it for a moment, recalling how much of it was left last night (a lot, since Ren is not actually a big drinker), then looks down at Hux's sleeping form worryingly. It isn't like the general to drown himself in drink like this, though they admittedly did not spend much of their leisure time around each other before.

He reaches over and takes the bottle from Hux, who rolls over on his side, face burying against Ren's chest. Placing the bottle on the table next to his bed, he sees Hux's com link and taps on the screen to activate it. He reads Snoke's curt message, sighs and runs a hand over his face as his other arm tightens around Hux's bony shoulders. 

He has a few more hours before the meeting, but he's already dreading it. Snoke has an uncanny way of making anyone feel small, which has nothing to do with his oversized hologram projection, and everything to do with his piercing glare and his ability to convey his disappointment without needing to say anything. Even the message to Hux and the way he'd been told not to join their meeting made Ren feel for him. It isn't so much his failure in capturing the scavenger that's making him dread this meeting, though he's sure Snoke has a few things to say about that. What's causing his anxiety is what he'd done a few moments before, to his father, and what he'd felt immediately after. Snoke will be able to tell his pain, his grief, his own disappointment that Chewie's aim hadn't been better.

He startles at the last thought, not having been aware he felt that way until now, and blinks back the rapidly forming tears in his eyes. He'd cried in front of his father, too. He won't survive doing so in front of Snoke.

Ren looks down at Hux, so comfortable wrapped in his arms, the usual tension gone from his freckly shoulders, and he wishes he could face Snoke with him. Somehow, Ren knows that his presence by his side would keep him from folding under the disappointing sneer of their leader. There's no way they could disregard Snoke's orders, however, so Ren resigns himself to it.

He lies back on the bed, stares up at the ceiling, and lets Hux's breathing calm his nerves. Something about having someone smaller, maybe even more lost than he is, gives Ren a feeling he is not entirely familiar with. As a child, he had always been under somebody else's protection—his parents', or his uncle's—and then later on when he got older, under Snoke's guidance. He finds a certain kind of comfort in having an outside force pointing him, as well as his power and rage, in a direction he doesn't need to come up with on his own. It leaves him to focus on other, more important things. Or so he tells himself.

Ever since he'd kissed Hux that first time, however, something had taken root inside him, a different sense of purpose. It was as if he'd developed his own personal compass inside himself, and it pointed directly at Hux. He hadn't understood then, what Hux's pain had been, or what it had meant that he felt it inside his own chest almost as strongly. He understands it now, though, clear as daylight, because he feels an identical ache, one that's all his own. Burying himself inside Hux last night, not just physically, had opened him up in places he didn't know he'd previously locked up, and it came at him in unrelenting tidal waves that threatened to overpower him. Ren knew, simply and irrevocably, that he will not survive losing him.

Hux is now the North he will always point to, no matter where they are, no matter how many systems apart.  


* * *

  
Ren leaves Hux still sound asleep in his bed and heads for the conference room to meet with Snoke. The few personnel he passes on his way there at least have the decency to either jump out of his way, or duck their heads to avoid looking at his exposed face. He is not used to letting them see his face, feels almost murderous that he now has to walk these halls without his mask. Even with his hood pulled low over his features, he still feels like he's giving away a vulnerable spot, like an animal rolling on its back to expose its soft underside.

He reaches the conference room and opens the doors with a lot more force than necessary. It's empty, of course, and Snoke's projection is not yet online. He paces the room restlessly, fists clenched and shoulders hunched. He stops abruptly when Snoke's projection flickers on, looks up at his master with his heart refusing to settle down.

They stare at each other for a few seconds, Ren breathing heavily, Snoke looking down at him almost lazily. He can feel the cold eyes raking over his features, taking in the scar on his face.

"Master-" he starts finally, taking a step forward. 

"You have failed," Snoke cuts him off. It's not said angrily, nor with any hint of malice, just stated as a fact. 

Ren is surprised, he expected a verbal beatdown, perhaps even a show of Snoke's immense power by force choking him from several systems away. As he feared, it's the disappointment that makes him feel smaller than a child.

He lowers his head, almost drops to his knees in shame. "I'm sorry," he croaks. For a moment, Kylo Ren thinks he can hear the walls of the massive room echoing his pathetic apology, mocking him for its futility, before he realizes it's all in his head—echoes and mocking alike.

"Starkiller is no more, the scavenger—along with the traitor—has fled into the arms of the Resistance, the same scavenger you claim has a strong connection with the Force. You allowed her to escape, and with the Resistance in possession of the map to Luke Skywalker, even the least Force sensitive individual can surmise where she will end up—under the tutelage of your old master. Your _uncle_."

He keeps his head bowed through Snoke's speech, a rundown of his most recent failures, all the while feeling a throbbing ache on his hip.

"You did manage to accomplish one thing, however."

The ache blooms into a searing pain he has to grit his teeth against, sweat pooling around his temples, his wet palms squelching inside his gloves as his fists tighten.

"You feel pain. Sorrow. Regret."

He doesn't refute this like he would have if it had been stated a few days ago. There is no point, not when Snoke would have felt the truth the moment he'd activated his lightsaber straight through his father's chest, probably felt the sob that threatened to shatter out of Ren's chest as he watched the body drop into the void.

"This is why I require your presence here with me. Your further training will eliminate all that sentimentality, that softness you should have shed years ago."

"Yes, Master." It's all he can manage to choke out without his voice breaking, and still he does not look up. He fears seeing his master's disappointment will break the precarious dam he's built around his control. He _will not_ shed any more tears for Han Solo. What's done is done. All he can do now is to move on and work on ridding himself of this guilt and ensuring it never touches him again.

"Go," Snoke orders calmly. "Prepare your body and mind for your final training. I will not have a weakened apprentice blubbering under my watch."

"Yes, Master," he repeats, now raising his carefully controlled face, though still avoiding Snoke's eyes. "Thank you, Master."

He shakes with self-loathing and a rage he cannot explain on his way back to his quarters, using his hand and not bothering with the Force to slam the stormtrooper he passes against a wall. He has a vague sense of people scrambling to get inside rooms and away from his path as he stomps down the corridors. He passes a droid and almost flings it away when he thinks of Hux, and what Hux will say to his destroying more equipment.

"You!" he barks instead. "Go to the kitchens and bring two trays of food to my private quarters." The droid beeps in response, but he's already walking away. 

When he finally reaches his quarters, he takes a deep calming breath (that is ultimately ineffective) before he enters. What finally stops his shaking is the sight of Hux, still asleep on his bed, clutching one of his pillows against his face.  


* * *

  
Hux doesn't wake up for a couple more hours, long after Ren has eaten everything on his food tray. When he does, he stumbles barefoot into the den, wearing nothing but his undershorts and a light shirt, eyes squinting in pain that Ren identifies as the effects of finishing almost a full bottle of whiskey on his own. He heads straight for the 'fresher without even looking at Ren. When he reemerges, he makes a beeline for the pot of caf. Ren grabs his shoulder and makes him sit instead on the stool by the counter where his food is laid out.

"Have some water first," he instructs, handing him a cold glass. "Then caf. And food."

Hux gulps the water down, making satisfied noises that send inappropriate thoughts to Ren's head. He clears his throat as he passes Hux the promised mug of caf when the water is gone. He can't help the smile that spreads across his face when Hux inhales deeply before taking a drink of the warm caf.

He's almost halfway through his mug, still ignoring the tray of food in front of him. Ren pushes it forward, _tsk_ -ing when Hux just keeps drinking. As if reading his mind, Hux twists in his seat when Ren reaches for the mug, keeping it away from his reach.

"Okay, okay," Hux grumbles. "Just keep your hands off the caf."

Hux eyes the tray with his usual sneer, one hand rubbing his stomach like he's petting a small agitated animal. He sighs in resignation before reaching for a pear, looking pointedly at Ren as he takes a bite. 

"Good," Ren says before sitting on the stool on the opposite side of the counter, taking a sip from his own mug of caf.

" _Fuck!_ " Hux hisses suddenly, panic coloring his face. "Ren, Leader Snoke-"

"Yes, I already met with him," Ren says calmly, smirking despite the sour taste the meeting left in his mouth. He quite enjoys seeing Hux get flustered. "I saw his message in your com."

Hux breathes a sigh of relief, taking a bigger bite of his pear. "I never thought the day would come that I would actually be thankful for your complete disregard of other people's privacy."

Ren snorts, happy to ignore the jibe.  


* * *

  
Hux declares his stomach can't handle any more food, even though he only ate the one pear, and pours himself more caf. Ren moves to the den, sitting on the couch instead of his usual armchair, and watches hopefully as Hux follows him. Hux grabs the data pad on the coffee table as he takes a long swig of caf before sitting down next to Ren. He feels like an idiot as a smile he can't control spreads across his face, and he looks away from Hux even though he's busy answering more reports and messages.

Neither of them says anything when Hux roughly puts his feet up on Ren's lap. Hux is still intently writing up reports, and Ren notes that he doesn't even realize what he just did. Smiling, he starts rubbing Hux's foot, his thumbs pressing into the curve of his sole. He's at it for a while when Hux's deep groan makes him look up.

Hux's data pad is now back on the coffee table next to his empty mug. He's on his back, head propped up by the couch's arm, and his eyes are shut.

"You're really good at that," Hux mumbles, not even opening his eyes. He sounds groggy, like he's in danger of falling asleep any minute. "Lord Ren of the Knights of Ren—master of the foot rub. I never would've guessed."

Ren chuckles, making a fist and digging his knuckles hard against Hux's heel, marveling at how skinny Hux's feet are. He can almost wrap his hand around one foot. Hux is so easily breakable in his big rough hands, he thinks, before immediately hating himself for even thinking it. 

As if to erase the thought, he pulls on Hux's ankle, watches his blue eyes pop open in surprise when he's dragged on top of Ren's lap so easily.

"What do you think you're doing, Ren?" Hux asks, but his voice doesn't sound as angry as he thinks it does.

Ren simply smirks, his hands traveling up the general's legs.

"Why are you so conscious of them?" Ren asks, reading Hux's embarrassment as his fingers start playing with the light red down on Hux's calf.

"I told you to stay out of my head," Hux says irritably. He starts to struggle, trying to get his legs off of Ren's lap, but he's pinned down by one arm. "And of course Mr. Thunder Thighs doesn't understand."

Ren smiles, one hand coming up to cup Hux's head. He pulls him closer and whispers in his ear, "I like your thighs. Especially when they're pressed around my hips, shaking and sweaty." He inhales deeply, his nose buried in Hux's hair. "Makes me hard just thinking about it," he continues, lightly biting Hux's earlobe.

He doesn't really need to say that last part, because his growing erection is currently pressed against Hux's leg. He swallows the lump in his throat as he watches it register on Hux's face, his eyes looking down on Ren's lap, lingering at the bulge there for a moment, before meeting his eyes again. Hux turns a lovely shade of pink as he adjusts in his seat so that he's now straddling Ren.

"Like this?" Hux asks, looming over Ren, not quite sitting on his lap. Ren grabs his hips, intending to push him down hard against his aching cock, but Hux resists, hands closing around Ren's. "Nuh-uh. If you don't behave, I'm going to leave."

Ren growls, eyebrows knitting together, but his hold on Hux loosens. Hux practically let him do whatever he wanted last night, and while that was indeed enjoyable, he quite likes this new development as well. He likes how much Hux is getting a kick out of telling Ren what to do. In fact, Hux enjoys it so much, Ren can feel it vibrating off his body, feels how hard he's straining to keep his control.

"Good boy," Hux mutters.

"Is this how you fuck in the morning? Barking orders and demanding compliance?"

"Well, you've seen me on duty on the bridge, haven't you?" Hux smirks, dipping just a little so his ass grazes Ren's cock, straightening again when Ren's hips jerk up.

"That's a demerit, Lord Ren," he chastises, grabbing a fistful of Ren's hair, and pulling it back so the knight is looking up at him.

Ren licks his lower lip before biting down hard on it, afraid he'll start begging Hux any minute. He's so hard right now that he's in actual pain.

"How shall I punish you, then?" Hux pretends to think for a moment, his other hand coming up to hold Ren's jaw tightly. His mouth opens to make a suggestion, but Hux smashes their lips together hard, eliciting a surprised but satisfied sound from Ren.

Hux kisses him hungrily, tongue pushing against his, teeth biting his lips, hand pulling his face even closer. Still, he does not sit on Ren's lap, and Ren has to strain against all his urges to refrain from pulling him down. He settles for tightening his hold, enjoying the pained gasp Hux breathes into his mouth.

Hux pulls away from his mouth to kiss along his jaw, licking and sucking down his neck, body bending stubbornly to keep it from touching Ren where he needs it most.

_Can I at least...fucking touch...your ass..._

Hux sighs in pleasure, head nodding against Ren's neck, and he uses both hands to squeeze Hux's cheeks. Ren pulls him closer with a grunt, forcing Hux to straighten up and brace himself with his bandaged hand against the wall behind the couch, his own erection pressing against Ren's chest. Hux's legs start to shake, the hand in Ren's hair pulling harder as one of Ren's hands snake inside his shorts.

 _Let me go!_ Hux thinks, and it's pushed into his head so urgently that he's afraid he's hurt Hux somehow. As soon as his hands are off, raised as if in surrender in front of him, Hux sits down on his lap, ass moving up and down his length.

Their lips meet again in another punishing kiss, Ren's hands trying to get Hux out of his shirt. Hux doesn't let up on his assault on Ren's mouth, though, refusing to break the kiss as their hips grind furiously against each other.

"Hux," Ren says against his lips. "Hux...clothes...off."

Hux continues kissing him for a few seconds before pulling back to take off his own shirt, revealing his flushed chest. Ren pulls him back, kisses down his neck, licks his nipple, all the while ignoring Hux's struggles with the many layers of clothing still separating them.

"Why must you wear so much clothing?" Hux complains, tugging at his cowl and yelping when Ren bites the skin over his ribs. He stops his movements, and Ren groans angrily.

Huffing almost furiously, Ren removes his cowl and tosses it on the floor, Hux's shaking hands working on the thick belt around his waist. They both pull his tunic off, Hux raising his hips briefly to let the fabric go, leaving him in just his tights. Hux takes a deep shaky breath, fingers roaming down Ren's naked chest, so light they send shivers up his spine, stopping just on top of the waistband of his tights. Ren watches as Hux bites his lip, dipping his finger inside and touching the tip of Ren's cock, before looking up.

Ren's brow is furrowed, teeth grit, his breathing ragged. Hux gets up, standing between Ren's splayed legs, and smirking as Ren's protests are cut short when he quickly removes his shorts. His eyes hungrily take in Hux's full erection, tip already wet, and he groans under his breath when Hux wraps one hand around the base. Ren watches him pump once, twice, before surging forward and taking Hux in his own hand. He licks precome from the tip, smiles when Hux's legs tremble again. When he wraps his lips around the swollen head and sucks gently, Hux's knees buckle, and he places one hand on Ren's shoulder while the other grabs his hair again.

He opens his mouth wider, sucking in as much as he can of Hux, and swallowing when the tip hits the back of his throat. Hux moans so loud that Ren's own untouched cock throbs, making him suck harder, the tip of his tongue running up the underside of Hux's shaft as he pulls back.

"Wait, Ren," Hux pants, the fist buried in his hair shaking almost violently. "I don't want to...not yet...I want to..."

He doesn't need to finish his thought (can't anyway), Ren sees the image of Hux riding him playing in his head already. He gives Hux's cock one last lick before sitting back, raising his hips as Hux clumsily pulls his tights off, leaving them tangled around his ankles. Ren watches as Hux straddles him again, lining up their erections and holding them in one hand, putting those long fingers to good use. Hux moves his hand up and down their aching cocks, watching as Ren puts two of his own fingers in his mouth, tongue darting out and lapping at them. He bends down and kisses Ren, taking Ren's fingers in his own mouth and licking between the fingers. When he moans against Ren's mouth, Ren doesn't know if it's from the licking, the kissing or the pumping, all he knows is he is in danger of losing his control before he's even inside Hux.

He grabs the back of Hux's neck as he pulls his fingers out of their mouths, their tongues still twisting together, making Hux tilt forward far enough for Ren's fingers to reach his ass. His hand stops pumping the minute he feels Ren's middle finger circling his hole, tightens around their cocks when he pushes in. He goes completely slack when Ren finds his prostate, slumping forward and resting his forehead on Ren's shoulder.

" _Oh fff--_ " Hux is shivering all over as Ren adds his index finger and continues his strokes.

"Do you still want to punish me, General?" Ren asks as he kisses Hux's forehead. He smiles when Hux growls, pushing his head hard against Ren's mouth.

"Okay...okay..." Hux pants, reaching behind him to grab Ren's arm. "That's...enough..."

Ren pulls his fingers out slowly, watching Hux squirm and suck his lower lip into his mouth. He uses his hands to spread Hux's cheeks apart, raising him a little and letting Hux line Ren's licking tip against his hole. They stare at each other as Hux slowly lowers himself, Ren's whole face shaking from the effort of not crying out in pleasure. Ren lets Hux take his time, lets him adjust gradually, his own hands gently massaging Hux's ass. Hux takes a deep unsteady breath when he's all the way in, sweaty fingers digging into Ren's equally sweaty chest. Hux's eyes are dark as he nods at Ren, and he takes this as his permission to move.

Ren moves his hands to Hux's hips, gripping him tightly, raising him up easily before pulling him down hard and meeting him halfway with a thrust of his own twisting hips, making sure to hit Hux's spot again. Hux pants as Ren repeats the motion, setting a frantic rhythm that makes Hux pull him closer, long arms wrapping around Ren's head, hands tangled in his hair.

It doesn't take them long, not with Ren knowing exactly where Hux's pleasure points are. He only has to give Hux's cock a few quick pumps while repeatedly hitting his prostrate with each thrust of his hip before Hux comes in his hand, clenching tightly around Ren and pulling him along quickly over the edge with him.

Hux slumps down on Ren, one hand still tangled in his hair, the other clutching the back of the couch. Hux lazily kisses Ren's neck, too tired to move, and Ren bites down on his shoulder.

"Oh fuck, don't do that," Hux whimpers, face still resting against Ren's neck, breathing still ragged. "I don't think I can go another round just yet."

"You like it when I bite," Ren mumbles, sitting back on the couch and resting his head against the wall. "Noted."

Hux weakly punches Ren's chest, their shoulders shaking as they both dissolve in quiet laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geez, how freaking melodramatic is Ren?! Hux is now the north he will always point to?! Sheesh! What a drama queen.
> 
> This chapter ended up being longer than I'd anticipated, I actually wanted to add more scenes, but that sex scene ate up my word count. Listen, I don't even know, man. Is spit enough lube? Or did I just give Hux the sorest asshole ever? Also, is there any other word one could use for 'hole'?! It just sounds so crass, but at least this is from Ren's POV, and that bastard's pretty obscene.
> 
> Anyway, this might end up being the only explicit sex scene I'll write for this. I just thought I'd give it a go.
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://the-fluff-awakens.tumblr.com/).


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo Ren invades every minute of Hux's daily existence. Hux lets him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a little longer to write because real life is needier than Kylo Ren and is being a total bitch. I wish I had more time to edit this, but I needed to post it quickly because more real life shit is about to take over. I'll give this another look tomorrow or something. For now, please forgive any typos or mistakes.

Prior to the demise of his whole life's work, General Hux had always known Kylo Ren had disliked him, and that was putting it mildly. Once or twice, he'd wondered what kind of sick twisted form of torture fantasy scenarios the mysterious knight was coming up with in his head whenever that infernal mask would follow his movements on the bridge. Now, as he stands under the water of Ren's refresher, wincing as he reaches back to clean himself, he can't help but wonder if unlubricated anal sex was one of those scenarios. 

He hears Ren's booming laugh from outside, followed by a loud thud that sounds suspiciously like a massive body hitting the floor.

 _Get the fuck out of my head, Ren,_ he thinks savagely, then groans in pain when soap suds trail down his back and onto the still raw and tender skin between his asscheeks.

_Stop thinking such absurd thoughts, then._

_You really couldn't have summoned the bottle of lube from your room like any decent force-user, could you?_

He hears more laughter from outside before Ren answers. _You didn't exactly stop me, though, did you? Chin up, General. I thought you enjoyed pain?_

Ren sends him back images of his face, eyes closed tight, mouth hanging open in pleasure as he bobs up and down—Ren's view from a while ago.

 _Okay, okay, I get your point,_ he thinks back angrily, wondering if his thoughts can convey his ire as well as his voice normally does.

 _You want me to make it better?_ Ren asks right before sending him more images—Ren joining him in the shower, kneeling down to lick Hux along his crack, tongue grazing his entrance, as he braces himself against the wall. Hux's cock twitches, despite the stinging pain in his ass. 

_I would rather just clean myself in peace._ He is getting hard again, and he is not entirely sure he will survive another round with Ren, not in his current state. And he really did not want to have to jerk one off while Ren howled in laughter on the other side of the door either.

 _As you wish,_ Ren replies, before Hux feels his presence in his head retreat.  


* * *

  
Hours later, when Hux, dressed in a pair of Ren's too-large sweatpants rolled halfway up his calves and a loose sleeveless tank top, leaves to go to the training rooms, Ren decides to join him, following behind the general and hiding under his dark hood. Hux keeps looking over his shoulder, checking to see if he is still being followed, and tsk-ing in annoyance when he finds that he is.

When they finally get there, they find two officers lifting weights, who, after spotting the two most powerful men in the galaxy standing by the doorway and watching them, nearly drop their weights in fear. They walk inside without sparing another glance at the officers, Hux starting to put on his wraps over his bandaged hand as the officers all but run out of the room.

"You must be joking," Ren says, suddenly looming over him.

"What?"

Ren looks at his hands pointedly, and when he continues his wrapping, puts his own enormous hand over them.

"You shouldn't."

"And yet," Hux mutters, trying to pull his hands away from Ren.

Ren's hand suddenly clamps down hard on his right hand, making Hux cry out.

"What the hell, Ren?"

Ren only watches him, an annoyingly smug look on his face, before turning around and sitting cross-legged in the middle of one of the sparring mats.

Hux grudgingly undoes his wraps, tossing them angrily at the heavy bag, all the while staring daggers at the knight, who now has his eyes closed, probably _tuning into the force_ or whatever. He starts doing stretches while he tries to decide what he can do in lieu of punching things. He is only vaguely aware of Ren's attention, who is still seated on the mat but has reopened his eyes.

When he gets up from his last lunge and looks, Ren's eyes are closed again, brows now furrowed in concentration. Hux isn't an expert, but he's pretty sure Ren's doing that wrong. Isn't meditating supposed to calm you or something?

He decides to jog around the massive room, but before he even does one full circuit, it becomes apparent what a big mistake that is. Ren's shoulders are shaking in silent laughter (telling him the man is in his head again) as Hux rubs a hand on his stinging ass. The friction his short jog created is quite unbearable. It's not the kind of pain he enjoys. It doesn't come with the calming sounds of flesh hitting leather, or the feeling of being filled up inside as Ren thrusts into him.

Ren twists in his seat to look at him, eyes suddenly dark, no doubt from hearing that last thought.

"How many times do I have to tell you to stay the fuck out of my head, Ren?" Hux says angrily, grabbing a jumprope and proceeding to use it. He keeps his breathing even as he jumps up and down, ignoring the man still watching him almost hungrily, counting his progress through each slap of the rope on the floor. He doesn't even get to twenty before his wrists start to protest a little. Ren gets up from the floor frustratingly and approaches him, crossing his arms when Hux grits his teeth and continues his jumps defiantly.

"On the mat, General," Ren commands.

"I beg...your pardon?" Hux huffs between jumps.

"I need a sparring partner."

"Go find...Phasma."

"I want _you,_ " Ren growls, and Hux stops at the sound. Partly because Ren has stepped too close for the rope to continue another loop, but mostly because of the choice of words.

"I doubt we practice the same kind of combat techniques," Hux says, chest heaving as he gathers both ends of the jumprope in one hand, the other unconsciously wrapping around his right wrist.

"No matter, I will adjust to yours," Ren answers, taking the rope from Hux's hand to toss it aside and walking back to the mat he previously sat on.

Hux huffs again, mostly to stall, before following. Ren sheds his cloak, and Hux can't help but roll his eyes in annoyance. Underneath the melodramatic _dress_ , Ren is wearing the exact same outfit Hux has on, except his pants aren't pulled up to his calves, and, of course, the tank top hugs his chest like it's doing its damnedest not to burst. Hux tilts his head from side to side to take his mind off that chest, cracking his neck and smiling when Ren makes an irritated face at the sound. Ignoring Ren's predatory gaze, Hux bends his knees, moves his left foot backwards, and raises his fists. 

"No sorcery, Ren," he says.

Before Ren can reply or copy his stance, Hux shifts his weight to his left leg as he bends his right knee to bring his foot up, and, twisting his hips, pops Ren's left shoulder with his foot. He grins widely when Ren registers what just happened.

"I wasn't ready," Ren says, bending his knees and raising his hands up as he takes one step forward.

Hux ignores the stinging pain on his backside and gives Ren a lazy look, taking a step back so that his left foot is in front.

"And we're suddenly all about honor here?" 

He moves quickly, twisting his hips to the right and raising his left knee, before quickly extending it, foot flexed, aiming a lower kick on Ren's waist. Ren catches his foot in one hand, smirking at his surprised look, before releasing his foot.

"You're pretty fast," Ren observes, stepping to the left and smiling as Hux takes a corresponding step of his own. "Then again, you need to be with a body like that-"

Ren blocks the punch Hux throws at his face, their forearms locking against each other. Hux raises his eyebrows innocently when Ren glares at him.

"Don't use your fists, Hux."

"Careful, Ren," he playfully warns, smirking as they circle each other again. "I might actually think you care." He bites his bottom lip, drawing Ren's eyes to his mouth.

Taking advantage of Ren's distraction, Hux raises his left elbow, turns his hips and twists his body into the hook, hitting Ren square in the jaw. It isn't a strong enough hit to knock out someone like Kylo Ren, but the act itself manages to disorient him well enough. Hux watches as Ren flexes his jaw slowly.

"You're a dirty fighter," Ren chuckles, as if this newfound knowledge is the most deliciously entertaining discovery he's ever made in his life.

"You said it yourself," Hux answers arrogantly. "With a body like mine..."

That's the last hit Hux manages to land for the rest of their sparring match, Ren mostly playing defense and letting the smaller man dictate the pace of their workout. Whenever Hux tries to use his fists, Ren manages to avoid making any contact, ducking and sidestepping away whenever he can. Ren quickly adjusts to Hux's fighting technique, his own kicks and hits (whenever he makes an offensive move) precise and powerful. Hux is quicker but Ren is obviously that much stronger. By the time the match ends, Hux's sides are tender and he can feel a bruise forming between his neck and left shoulder from where Ren landed a downward elbow strike. He has a strong suspicion, though, that that's Ren's version of going easy on him.

Still, he feels somewhat proud that he managed to not only stay on his feet against Ren, but also hit that pretty little insolent face with his sharp elbow.

"You think I'm pretty?" Ren asks, pulling his cloak back on as Hux bends down to grab his wraps from the floor on their way out.

Hux sighs heavily, aiming a punch on Ren's shoulder, who twists his body away just in time to avoid being hit.  


* * *

  
Hux sits at his desk, his tray of food in front of his computer, hair still wet from his shower, muscles aching pleasantly. He sighs heavily as he spears a piece if protato with his fork in a manner one might make when forced to do something one is not entirely happy about. He swirls the wine in his glass as he chews slowly, staring at the little whirlpool the movement creates, like a tiny tornado of blood trapped in glass.

He brings the glass up to his nose, inhales deeply, before taking a sip. He prefers the Jhantorian wine to this Chimbak, but he'd finished the bottle yesterday, fully aware that he should've been savoring it instead of drowning in it like he'd been stranded on Jakku for years. He stares at the glass again, wondering what his counterpart in the Resistance would think if she found out he had a bottle of wine from her home planet. 

Some people collected their enemy's ashes, Hux hoarded drinks from long-gone planets. He makes a mental note to start searching the galaxy for drinks from the planets in the Hosnian system. He imagines the prices will have gone up considerably, but surely the merchants will recognize his involvement in the whole affair and will offer him a sizable discount.

His door slides open of its own accord, or so it seems, revealing a freshly-showered Kylo Ren, who strides in confidently like he's just been invited in.

"I remember a time when your head was filled with numbers and logistics of ships instead of prices of rare alcoholic beverages," Ren says as he takes a seat on the couch in front of Hux's desk.

"I remember a time when I was all alone in my head," Hux answers wistfully, tipping his glass and finishing his drink. He refills his glass almost to the top, making sure the bottle's label is facing Ren when he sets it down on his desk. Ren gives him a look that tells him he knows exactly where the bottle of wine is from. "What are you doing here, Ren?"

"Thought we'd give your bed a go this time," Ren answers, deadpan.

Hux chokes on his protato, clutching his throat and staring incredulously at Ren.

"You're a presumptuous asshole, aren't you?" Hux says before taking a long drink. His glass is less than half-way full when he sets it back down. "My ass has not recovered from this morning, thank you very much."

"There's more than one way to pleasure a man's body. Besides, our time is limited, General," Ren states matter-of-factly. And then, almost softly, "Must we really go through this whole charade every time? Wouldn't you rather make the most of it?"

Hux furrows his brow as that all-too-familiar ache in his chest swells up again. He finishes his drink and wordlessly walks to his bedroom, shedding clothes on his way. He's picking at the scabs on his knuckles when Ren turns him around and kisses him hungrily.  


* * *

  
Hux has been told by several different people that he has an addictive personality. One look at his bottle collection confirms this, as well as his obsessive need for routines. So it really does not surprise him when he falls into a new routine to replace his previous one of early wake up calls, daily shavings, meals at the mess hall, and nightly reports.

His new routine consists of waking up late (i.e. hungover), lunch forced down his throat, rough ( _but now always lubricated, if Ren knows what's good for him_ ) morning sex, sparring at the training rooms, more forced food, then just hours of allowing Ren to do whatever he wished to his body. Two things are always consistently present: Ren and alcohol.

Their sparring matches become increasingly more aggressive, Ren's fear of breaking Hux now gone after seeing what the lithe but quick general can do. They almost always leave the training rooms bruised and bleeding. The first time Hux manages to make Ren's lip bleed, Ren follows him back to his quarters and takes him angrily in the refresher, destroying Hux's new routine like it's just another goddamned control console on his ship. Ren, Hux realizes, has a weird reaction to losing—it must not happen very often, so it confuses his emotions—in that it angers him, but also excites him. Hux isn't sure if it's the thought of someone putting him in his place, or the act of someone drawing his blood, but Ren is almost always more frantic in taking him after their matches.

Hux finds himself at his desk, alone in his quarters after one of these intense matches, Ren having been called away by a call from Snoke before he could take a shower. He finds the now unusual solitude somewhat relaxing. Ren only seems to have two settings when they're around each other: he's either constantly touching Hux, or teasing him until he loses his patience and shuts the knight up with a kiss.

There's a plate of half-eaten fruit in front of him, as well as an assortment of untouched meats and bread. He realizes belatedly that he hasn't had a drink all day, and he doesn't know what surprises him more—his apparent lack of thirst for alcohol, or his deviation from his new routine. He contemplates reaching for the bottle of brandy in his desk drawer, but wonders how long he can last without it, at the same time. In the end, he sits immobile on his chair, staring at the little dark scabs on his knuckles.

The data pad next to his tray of food beeps when a message arrives, but he ignores it. It can wait. The only message that couldn't would come from Snoke, and he's currently having a nice little chat with Ren. Probably about Ren's _further training_. Probably about Hux's incompetence. Hux hasn't missed the fact that Snoke hasn't asked to see him since the base's collapse, and he knows this lack of communication is significant. It won't be long now before Hux is replaced by someone, perhaps after Ren leaves. Maybe Snoke will have him tossed out at some random backwater outer rim planet. If he's being honest, that's probably the best case scenario for him.

He gets up from his seat angrily, the chair rolling away and slamming against the shelf behind his desk. How is any of this his fault? He created a weapon that could destroy five planets at once, and it did. The Resistance blew it up, true, but not without some difficulty. How is that _his_ fault?

He's pacing around the den after successfully working himself up when his door hisses open and Ren walks in. He follows Ren's eyes to his knuckles, and is surprised to find his fingers worrying away at his scabs. He's managed to open at least three of them and is on his way to scratching off a fourth.

"What's wrong?" Ren asks, surprisingly calm given who he is. "You've been projecting since I left the conference room, and that's on the other side of the ship."

" _How is it my fault?_ " Hux yells, throwing his arms up.

"Who says it is?" Ren doesn't even need to ask what he's talking about, because of course. "Is that why you've been punishing yourself this whole time?"

"I haven't been-" Hux starts, lowering his voice.

"Yes, you have," Ren says, nodding his head as he approaches Hux tentatively, as if he were some goddamned animal that's managed to escape its cage. "The drinking, not eating, and, well, that." He points at Hux's knuckles lamely.

"I haven't been," Hux repeats, though he says it with less conviction, releasing his fist and reaching for Ren's cowl. He pulls, eyebrows knitting together as he ignores Ren's surprised look, and crashes their mouths together in an angry kiss. The pain in his chest blossoms violently.

Hux sighs deeply when Ren's arms wrap around him like a thick warm cloak and almost pushes the pain away, before he catches himself and bites down hard on Ren's bottom lip. Ren moans and pulls back, looking down at him with a smirk.

"You know, General," Ren says, head dipping low to trail kisses on Hux's cheekbone. "It isn't wrong to want things." 

Big but soft fingers graze Hux's jaw lightly, and he almost growls, grabbing Ren's wrist and angrily pushing it away. 

"I thought it was my turn?" Ren asks, genuinely confused.

"Just shut up, Ren," Hux mumbles, hands burying in Ren's black hair and pulling his head down. 

Ren lets him abuse his lips until he draws blood, at which point Ren's hands find his ass and lift him up, leading Hux's legs to wrap around his waist. He walks them to Hux's bedroom, slamming Hux's back against the wall next to the bed. Ren smiles when Hux groans, their erections already rubbing against each other.  


* * *

  
Hux walks out of his room naked, Ren sound asleep in his bed, his stomach's angry growl having woken him up. He goes to his desk where his barely touched dinner still sits. He eats a piece of meat, reaches for the bread, and smiles. He can't remember the last time he tasted anything so good. Before he knows it, he's finished his whole tray of food.

The blinking light on his data pad catches his attention, and he taps the screen to activate it, reading the message from Mitaka.

**D. Mitaka** : _Approaching Eldion's orbit in 36 hours._

It takes a while for him to comprehend the message, his stomach churning as he stares at the word, _Eldion_. Snoke's planet. In less than two days. He computes it quickly in his head, determines that Ren will be departing the ship at 0600 the cycle after tomorrow.

He barely makes it in time to his refresher, throwing up everything he's just eaten. His stomach is not used to anything more substantial than fruit and vegetables, he reasons with himself. And alcohol.

He rinses his mouth, bracing himself against the sink and staring at his reflection. His skin is pale, his face is gaunt, and he barely recognizes the blue eyes staring back at him. The stubble on his cheeks has grown unforgivably thick. He takes a deep breath, running a shaking hand through his thick red hair.

He reaches for the razor by the sink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so Ren is whipped af.
> 
> Also, I head canon that Hux likes it quick and rough, while Ren likes to kiss every inch of Hux and to take his time.
> 
> Next chapter will probably take even longer to post because I'm thinking of contributing something to Take Your Fandom To Work Day. Once that's posted, I can get to work on Chapter 5 of this story.
> 
> PS I totally made up Snoke's planet. I don't know much about the planets on Star Wars, I'm sorry.
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://the-fluff-awakens.tumblr.com/).


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren's last day aboard the Finalizer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SEX!
> 
> I'm sorry this took so long to post, other stories wanted to be written. And then when I finally did write it, it turned into the longest chapter of this story.

 

 

On his last day aboard the Finalizer, Ren wakes up alone in Hux's bed. Despite the Force confirming this, his hand still reaches out and pats the empty space next to him. It's no longer warm, which means Hux has been up for a while now. Ren opens one eye to look at the chrono on the bedside table and groans when he sees how early it is. It's only 0500, they haven't been asleep that long. He can't help the smirk that forms on his lips when he remembers what had kept them up so late last night (or just a few hours ago, really). He reaches out with the Force to look for Hux and finds him in the kitchen. Ren thinks he's looking for alcohol, but quickly realizes that Hux is just making a pot of caf. Rubbing one hand over his face, Ren gets off the bed and heads out of the bedroom.

He finds Hux still in the kitchen, back turned to him, wearing nothing but his undershorts. Ren finds himself staring at Hux's ass, small and tight, and smiles at the knowledge of how perfectly one cheek fits in his hand. His bare feet muffles the sound of his approach as he pads across the room to stand behind the general, wrapping his arms around Hux's waist and startling him.

"What are you doing up so early?" he asks, burying his nose in Hux's hair and kissing the back of his neck. "Come back to bed."

"Today's your last day," Hux says, ignoring his question. Or perhaps answering it, Ren's not sure. He sounds stiff and formal, as if they were having this conversation on the bridge where officers and troopers could hear them. "Mitaka's just informed me."

"I know," he mumbles against the skin at the back of Hux's ear. "I sensed our approach to Eldion last night."

Hux stiffens in his arms, hands forming into fists on the kitchen counter. Ren trails one hand up to his chest, feels every bump of his protruding ribs, his cool skin, and finally resting it over Hux's chest, his heart hammering so angrily, it might as well be beating on Ren's open palm. They inhale deeply at the same time, Ren closing his eyes as he savors the smell of Hux's skin, knowing how soon he will be without it, his lips resting on the space between his neck and shoulder.

Hux turns in his arms, one hand coming up to touch Ren's face gentler than he's ever touched him before. When he opens his eyes, he's surprised to find Hux clean-shaven, jaw smooth like it always was before the fall of his precious planetary weapon. Hux is busy trailing his long fingers over the plains of Ren's face that he misses the softness in his eyes.

"There you are," Ren whispers, voice low, eyes scanning Hux's face like it's the first time he's seeing it. His hand comes up to cup the back of Hux's head and he pulls him in for a long gentle kiss.

Hux's hands come to rest on the small of Ren's back, fingers firm and sure as he pulls him closer. He lets Ren's tongue open his mouth wider, lets Ren explore inside it like he's looking for something—answers to his lifelong existential crisis, some sort of redemption, _home_ , neither of them is sure—lets Ren _feel_ every single emotion bubbling inside him—from the overwhelming affection he's quickly allowed himself to develop for the knight, to the heavy and almost all-consuming anxiety that's been growing stronger as they drew closer to Ren's departure each cycle. And of course, that ever-present ache, the one that's reached out and planted itself in Ren's own chest, pulses louder and stronger the longer this uncharacteristically tender kiss lasts. 

Finally, it's too much for Hux, and he pulls away from the kiss only to wrap his arms around Ren's neck and, standing on his toes, buries his flushed face in Ren's thick brown hair. Ren's hand slowly rubs up and down Hux's slight frame, from the small of his back to the space between his shoulder blades, and Hux starts to shiver. No, he corrects himself, Hux starts to _tremble_.

Ren quickly grabs Hux's lanky legs and wraps them around his waist, walking them back to the bedroom. If Hux doesn't like it, he doesn't say anything, just hugs Ren tighter, trembles even harder. Ren sits on the bed, then slowly lays his body down, hand still rubbing soothingly over Hux's back. They stay that way for a while, Hux's whole body wrapped around his, Ren humming tunelessly and planting soft kisses on Hux's shoulder while ignoring the warm wetness that pools on the pillow and his neck. Half an hour later, Hux's trembling has stopped, his breathing has evened out, and Ren follows him to sleep.  


* * *

  
Ren finds that he's grown an addiction of his own to match Hux's apparent one for alcohol: wherever they are, whatever they're doing, his hands always seem to have the unerring ability to find Hux—absentmindedly wiping a piece of fruit from his lip when they're having lunch, or running his fingers through Hux's hair whenever he passed by him. Hux doesn't seem to mind as much as he used to when it first started, not even rolling his eyes now or tsk-ing when Ren wraps a possessive hand over the back of his neck on their way back from the training rooms, guiding him as if he didn't know this ship like the back of his own hand.

When Hux makes to turn down the corridor leading to his personal quarters, Ren tightens his grip on him and stirs him the other way. There's only a second of slight hesitation, a faltering in Hux's step, before he allows himself to be stirred into the open door of Ren's quarters. Ren admits he does not know when they'll see each other again, when Hux will be within touching distance, and so he does not intend for them to spend even one minute apart.

No words are exchanged as the door closes behind them, not when they kick their shoes off at the same time, not when Ren's hand lowers from Hux's neck and trails down his back, the other hand grabbing the back of his own sweat-soaked shirt and pulling it over his head in one deft move. Hux turns around to face him, eyebrows slightly furrowed, and raises his hand over his head wordlessly—an invitation, if Ren ever saw one. His hands are careful as he grabs the hem of Hux's shirt and undresses him, tossing the shirt on the floor as one of Hux's hands comes up to rest on his chest. He watches as Hux's eyes follow the movements of his fingers, lightly skimming over Ren's skin as if connecting the moles scattered there. He stops when he reaches the skin above the waistband of Ren's pants, searching blue eyes looking up at Ren's brown ones, and, seeing something there, hooks his fingers and pulls Ren's pants down.

Ren isn't used to this kind of attention, especially not from Hux. It's tender, almost unsure. He lowers his head, nudging Hux's forehead with his nose to make him tilt his head up, and kisses his lips softly. It's quick and chaste, unlike most of their usual kisses, and Hux smiles when Ren rests his forehead on his. Hux keeps his eyes closed, light lashes fluttering over his cheeks.

"What does a guy have to do to get his pants off around here?"

Ren laughs at this, he can't help it, throwing his head back and hugging Hux against his body. Hux ducks his head—to hide his pinking cheeks, Ren quickly reads from his mind—and gives Ren's neck a quick peck before inhaling deeply. Ren thinks he must not smell that great, what with their sparring match earlier, but Hux sighs against his skin contentedly. He lets his hands roam over Hux's back, hugging him tighter, before pushing his pants down.

He takes Hux's hand and walks to the refresher, letting go only when they're both inside, not bothering to close the door behind them. He can feel Hux watching him as he turns the knobs in the shower, checking the temperature with his hand before pulling Hux in with him. The water's a bit too hot for him, but he knows Hux likes it like this, so he endures it.

Hux stands under the water, eyes closed against the tiny droplets that roll down his face. He rubs his hands over his hair, darkened so much by the water that it almost looks brown, and turns around so that his back is facing Ren. Ren touches Hux's sharp shoulder blades, smiling when tiny goosebumps form immediately under his fingers, and steps closer so that his chest is touching Hux's back. He rests his chin on Hux's shoulder, closing his eyes when his hair is pushed over them by the water. His arms snake easily around Hux's small frame, one hand resting on Hux's flat stomach, the other on his chest. He sighs when one of Hux's hands rests over the hand on his stomach, while the other one reaches up to touch Ren's lower lip gently. They stand like that under the water for what feels like hours, content in each other's company, not needing to say a single word.  


* * *

  
Ren sits crosslegged on the floor of the den, eyes closed and communing with the Force. _Attempting to_ , at least. He's finding it particularly hard to concentrate now, his mind drifting towards Hux, who is stretched out on the couch behind him, and checking the day's reports on his datapad. It's not so much the proximity that's distracting, but Hux's loud thoughts. Even as he rechecks computations, or answers inquiries, Hux is still able to entertain his anxious thoughts regarding Ren's departure. Right now, as he looks over the budget for repairs on another part of the ship, he's also dreading the cold empty bed in his room that he will have to sleep in tomorrow night. As he deducts numbers from one hangar's repair budget and adds more to a cannon's, he's also listing what jobs he can catch up on just to avoid going to bed altogether. It really is amazing, the kind of work Hux's brain is capable of. They don't call him a genius for nothing, Ren thinks, chuckling to himself.

"You have got to be the worst meditator ever," Hux drawls from the couch, fingers tapping away on the pad.

"I find it hard to empty my mind when someone is being loud around me," he answers, sighing heavily before opening his eyes. He twists around and looks at Hux pointedly.

"I'm sorry, are my fingers typing on this _touchscreen_ loudly?" Hux asks mockingly. "Am I _swiping_ too noisily?"

"You can be loud under a kriffing ocean, Hux," he answers, unfurling from the floor and heading for the kitchen. He returns with two cups of steaming caf, placing one on the table in front of Hux. With a lazy flick of his wrist, he lifts Hux's head from where it's perched against the couch's arm. He sits down and lets Hux's head rest on his lap. Hux doesn't even stop typing through all this, long fingers gliding over the datapad's screen.

"What do you mean?" Hux asks after a moment, finally putting the datapad down on the low table. He sits up and nudges Ren's knee with his elbow, prompting him to lift his leg and slide it parallel to the back of the couch. Ren watches as Hux reaches for his caf and snuggles between his legs, back resting against Ren's broad chest.

"Hmm?" Ren asks, distracted by the softness of Hux's actions. Hux is not soft; he's sharp edges and a brusque tongue and precise fingers. Even his hair seems harsh, an assault on the eyes when you stare at it too long, not unlike a sun.

"How am I being loud?"

"Your thoughts," Ren answers simply as Hux takes a long drink from his cup. "Even when I'm not trying to listen in, it's like you're talking straight into my ear."

Hux is quiet, head now resting on his shoulder. For a minute, Ren thinks he's fallen asleep.

"It'll be easier soon, then," Hux finally says. "You won't have any trouble meditating this time tomorrow."

"Hmm," Ren mumbles against the rim of his own cup. He finishes the caf and places it on the table. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"I'll be able to catch up on my work. Finally."

Ren doesn't argue; they both know he's only part of why Hux hasn't been working. He runs his fingers up and down Hux's arm, closing his eyes and resting his head against the wall behind the couch. He wishes there was a way to make this easier for Hux, to ensure that he doesn't drown himself in alcohol again once Ren is away from the ship. He lets his mind reach out towards Hux's quarters to take inventory of his bottles, and he doesn't like what he finds. Briefly, he considers hiding them away, maybe going to the bar at the officer's lounge and flushing all the alcohol out of an airlock. He knows this won't solve anything, Hux will just find ways to get more. He'll need to want it himself, to decide to stop on his own.

Ren is pulled from his thoughts when he feels Hux's lips on his jaw, his own mouth stretching into a lazy smile. His arms tighten around Hux's waist as kisses are trailed down to his neck, Hux's breath warm against his skin.

 _Can you hear me now?_ Hux thinks. Ren swallows and smiles wider. _Take me to bed. Now._

Ren looks down to find Hux's darkened eyes looking at him intensely, concentrating on getting his message across. Without breaking eye contact, he takes Hux's empty cup and places it on the table in front of them. His hand cups Hux's jaw, pulls him in for a kiss. It's slow and deep, Hux's fingers tangling in the hair on the nape of Ren's neck, his torso twisting around to get better access of Ren's mouth. Ren's hand slides easily under Hux's shirt, fingers digging on the skin on his back, kneading, pulling him closer.

When Ren's other hand cups Hux between the legs and starts rubbing at the growing erection, Hux takes hold of his wrist to stop him.

"No, don't," Hux whispers against his lips. "The bedroom."

Ren doesn't need telling twice. Hooking his arm under Hux's legs, he gets up and heads for the bedroom, groaning when Hux pushes his tongue deeper into his mouth, hands pulling at his shoulder and the back of his head.

 _Closer closer closer._ Hux might as well be screaming at him.

Ren lays Hux on the bed gently, his own body following closely to pin the general to the mattress. Hux's legs automatically wrap around his waist, and he sighs when Ren lets his full weight rest on him. Ren's fingers tangle into Hux's mussed hair, forearms framing his head. He breaks the kiss only to lap at Hux's neck, tongue darting out to lick at his pulse and then sucking at the skin. Hux's breathing is heavy, his hips furiously canting against Ren's.

" _R-ren_ ," he breathes, then bites down on his lower lip, embarrassed at the neediness in his voice.

The sound is too much for Ren, and it suddenly feels like there's a whole galaxy separating them. He pushes up and kneels between Hux's legs, pulling his shirt off and feeling Hux's hungry eyes raking down his exposed torso. Ren is aware he has a good body, he won't pretend otherwise, but the way Hux looks at him is always enough to get his heart racing. Hux looks at him like he's never seen anything more beautiful, and if what Ren hears from his mind is any indication, the general thinks so, too.

His hand forms into a fist on the hem of Hux's shirt, rucking it up to expose the pale skin and pink nipples he often finds himself daydreaming about. Bending down, he kisses Hux's navel and works his way up, smiling at the way the flat stomach starts to tremble. He kisses one nipple softly before his tongue darts out to tease the little nub, eliciting a low moan from Hux. He starts rutting against Ren's hard stomach, desperate for any form of friction. Ren licks at the nipple with the pad of his tongue before tugging at it softly with his teeth, one of his hands now rolling the other nipple between its fingers. 

" _Oh, fuck, Ren!_ "

Hux's hands are fists in his hair now, tugging hard. Abandoning Hux's nipples for a second, Ren pulls Hux's shirt off and makes quick work of pushing their pants down, briefly wondering why they even bothered putting them on today. He tosses them to the foot of the bed hastily, lays his body back down between Hux's legs, their leaking cocks thick and hot against each other. He lowers himself, supporting his weight on his elbows, kissing Hux's swollen lips before pushing back a little. He hovers close, their lips almost touching, but not quite. He can't help staring at Hux's heavy-lidded eyes, pupils dilated with want. When he feels Hux's leg nudge his lower back, he starts to move, groaning at the sensation of their bodies pressing their cocks together.

Hux's breath is warm on his shoulder, the fingernails raking down his back digging into the skin harder with each of his thrusts. Hux's tongue pulls Ren's earlobe between his teeth, and with one tug, Ren's hands are fumbling on the table by his bed. He opens the drawer and fishes for the bottle, growing frustrated when he can't find it right away. When his fingers finally close around it, he sits up again and starts to unscrew the lid clumsily, fingers suddenly too big and shaky.

Hux's hand stops his movement again. Ren looks up impatiently, but stops when he sees the look on Hux's face. He looks determined and embarrassed at the same time, eyebrows knitted together, cheeks flushed. Ren watches as Hux opens his mouth to say something, then closes it abruptly. Then he hears it in his head.

_I want...I want to touch you everywhere._

Hux swallows, bites down on his lower lip.

_I want to feel every inch of you before you leave._

It's Ren's turn to swallow the lump in his throat, and he watches helplessly as Hux takes the lubricant from his hands. All too quickly, or perhaps his brain has just stopped working for a second, their positions are reversed; he's on his back while Hux straddles him. His breathing grows heavy, his mouth dropping open when Hux leans down to lick and suck at the underside of his jaw. His hands come up to grip Hux's hips as he starts to gyrate, rubbing their erections together slowly.

"Wait," he whispers, unable to speak any louder. "I'm not sure...did I hear...you want..."

He can't form one coherent thought with Hux's mouth slowly trailing down his chest, licking and sucking at his skin. His hips buck up involuntarily when Hux's tongue glides over his nipple once before sucking it into his mouth. Before Ren can finish moaning, Hux moves to the other nipple, sucking and teasing it with the tip of his tongue.

" _Oh fffu-huck, Hux!_ "

His grip on Hux's hips is bound to leave bruises, but he can't let go, he needs to pull Hux down, closer, to grind harder against him. Eventually he has to, however, as Hux's kisses continue their trail down his body. He tangles one hand in Hux's hair, the other arm coming up to cover his eyes. He bites down on his lip when he feels Hux's tongue dip into his navel, long fingers wrapping around his leaking cock to move it out of the way.

And then Hux's tongue is licking up his shaft, circling over the head, teasing the little hole to taste his precome before full lips are wrapped around him. Hux pumps his hand torturously slow, and when Ren moves his arm to peer down at him, he actually manages to smirk before sliding his lips down the shaft. Ren inhales deeply, watching Hux's full lips gliding up and down repeatedly. 

He's not sure he's witnessed anything better than the sight of his thick hard cock disappearing inside Hux's mouth.

His hand forms into a fist in Hux's hair when Hux relaxes his throat and pulls him in deeper, nose nuzzling into the dark hair around his base. He bucks up again when Hux moans and his throat vibrates around him, his other hand pulling at the bedding. Hux releases him with a wet pop, licking his swollen lips, before wrapping his hand around him again and licking at his sac. Stars quite literally explode behind his eyes when Hux sucks at his balls, and he thrashes almost violently to sit up and watch.

Hux sits up then, one hand still working on him, the other cupping behind his neck and pulling him in for a hungry kiss. His whole body is trembling, his hands pulling at Hux's waist. He groans when Hux pulls away from him.

"Have you ever?" Hux asks, eyelids lowered, breathing heavy.

Ren grabs his head and smashes their mouths together again before mumbling and shaking his head.

 _Can I still?_ Hux thinks when Ren's hand keeps him from pulling back and asking out loud.

Ren pulls away then, looks at Hux nervously.

"Don't worry," Hux teases, releasing Ren's neck and reaching for the bottle next to them. "I'll be gentle."

Ren can't find the strength to even chuckle at that. He's too worked up, his skin too hot, his cock too painfully hard. He swallows hard as he watches Hux release his cock and unscrew the bottle of lubricant, dipping his index and middle fingers inside.

"Lie back," Hux orders, placing the bottle back on the bed carefully. 

When he doesn't do as instructed, Hux pushes on his chest firmly until he's on his back.

"Lift your legs," came the next instruction. "Hook your hands behind your knees."

Ren obeys immediately this time, and he's rewarded with a kiss on the inside of his right thigh. Hux sucks on the skin gently, and Ren's cock twitches in response. He bites his lip when he feels a finger stroking from his balls to his hole.

"You know," Hux mumbles against his thigh, finger now circling around his entrance. "I quite like the idea of being the first to feel what it's like inside you."

Ren's hands shake against his legs, bracing himself for the penetration, as well as fighting off his orgasm. Hux's low whispers is enough to push him over the edge, having never spoken this way during their previous engagements.

"I bet you're as tight as your cock is big," Hux mutters, sitting up and looking down at him hungrily. Ren watches his brows furrow together before he feels one finger push against him, sliding in easily. Hux's eyes widen in pleasure as he moves his finger in and out of Ren. "Hmm, just as I thought."

Hux's other hand comes to rest on Ren's left thigh, massaging it as he pushes another finger inside. Hux exhales through his nose, biting his lip as he curls his fingers inside, and Ren loses it. He arches his back off the bed, digs his fingers into his own flesh, and moans, " _Stars, Hux!_ "

He releases one leg to grab Hux's wrist, looks at him with pleading eyes before whimpering a shaky, "Again."

Hux curls his fingers again, strokes the little bundle of nerves, then pulls his hand back. He does it again and again, Ren's grip on him tightening each time. When he adds a third finger, Ren almost breaks his wrist.

"Careful, Ren," Hux whispers teasingly, though the flush on his face does nothing to hide his own arousal. "You don't want to come before I'm even inside you, do you?"

"Then stop..." Ren pants, even as his hand urges Hux's fingers deeper inside his body. "Toying with me."

"I'm not toying with you," Hux chuckles, bending over him, his free hand pulling Ren's leg over his shoulder before resting it next to his head. Ren turns his head to lap at Hux's wrist, then bites at the fading bruises on the skin. "I promised to be gentle."

"You won't break me," Ren growls, releasing Hux's wrist and grabbing the bottle next to his leg. He pours the thick substance over Hux's flushed cock, tosses the bottle aside and wraps his thick fingers around it. He starts pumping briskly, mouth falling open as Hux's fingers stop midstroke, eyes taking in the general's expression.

It's not long before Hux is pulling his fingers out and pushing Ren's hand away, taking himself in his own hand. He looks down briefly as he lines the head over Ren's entrance, then looks back up at Ren. Hux licks his lips and takes a deep breath before pushing in, groaning as Ren's hole opens then tightens around him. Ren's slick hand is now resting on Hux's back, and he pulls at him impatiently, growing frustrated when Hux waits to give him time to adjust around him. Hux finally takes the hint and starts moving slowly, pulling out a little before pushing back in. He pulls Ren's other leg over his shoulder too, freeing Ren's other hand and starts moving in a steady rhythm.

Ren's hands now clutch at the sheets on either side of his body, pulling and twisting it.

" _Hux,_ " he groans, unable to keep his eyes open when Hux's cock hits him _there_ again and again.

Suddenly, Ren is somewhere else—not on this ship, not in the system said ship is currently passing, perhaps not even on this realm. He's somewhere clear and untouched, somewhere he doesn't see so much as _feels_ , and, his legs slipping off Hux's shoulders, he grabs Hux's back again, scrambling to pull him along, desperate to share all of him in this place. He's afraid that their rapid climb to their mutual peaks will leave him alone in such a shatteringly beautiful place. He feels it when Hux reaches it too, feels Hux shiver in pleasure, his hips thrusting faster and harder, and that ever present ache—because most beautiful things hurt, he's now come to learn—and it brings them tumbling over the edge, hands clasping each other so hard, they leave marks. Their lips crash together in a desperate attempt to cling even closer to each other.

Ren's folded legs are trembling, resting like two vibrating pyramids guarding them where they're still connected. Hux collapses on top of him and buries his face in Ren's tangled hair.

"Fffuck," Ren mumbles after a while, one hand coming up to cover his face. "Fuck, Hux!"

"What?" Hux chuckles against his hair.

"I just..." He's lost the ability to convey his thoughts.

"Take your time," Hux teases, settling more comfortably on top of him. Ren can tell he's too spent to care about the come sticking to their bodies right now.

"I've never come untouched before, that's how good that was," he finally manages. " _Is_ it always that good?"

"What do you mean?" Hux asks, stifling a yawn.

"Um..." How should he put this? "I've always given, never taken."

"You're so generous."

"Shut up," he chuckles, his arm around Hux's shoulders tightening. "I didn't realize it could be that good the other way around."

Hux pushes up against the bed, pulls his softening cock out of Ren, and smiles down at him. He leans down to kiss Ren's mouth lazily before sitting up and grabbing his shirt by Ren's feet. Hux lies back down and props his head up with one hand to keep staring at him while cleaning come from their stomachs. 

"No, that felt like something else," he admits, looking away from Ren. He lies on his back and stares at the ceiling. "I can't say I've ever felt anything like that before."

_How am I supposed to live without it now?_

Ren turns his head when he hears that last thought, brows furrowed in concern. He wants to tell Hux he doesn't have to, not for long anyway, that they'll be back together as soon as his training is complete, but Hux has already fallen asleep.  


* * *

  
At 0600 the following day, Ren stands next to Hux in front of his shuttle. Hux is in his full uniform, greatcoat hanging off his shoulders as usual. There aren't any people around the shuttles this early, the ones on shift mostly at the bridge and still looking bleary and unfocused. The general's presence seemed to surprise the few personnel they passed on their way to hangar one, most of them not even paying Ren's unmasked face any attention as they saluted Hux. It seems Hux's absence this past week hasn't gone unnoticed after all.

"Very well," Hux mutters, his tone cold and clipped, unable to be otherwise when he's in uniform. "Safe travels, Lord Ren."

"Don't do that," Ren says, looming over him. He looks around to make sure no one is around before he trails one finger over Hux's jaw. "Nobody here but us, Hux."

Hux inhales deeply before tilting his head up and giving Ren a lingering kiss. Ren cups his hand around Hux's jaw when he feels the ache pulsing in his chest again, but before he can pull Hux closer, the general breaks the kiss and walks away. Ren watches helplessly as he leaves the hangar before turning around and boarding his command shuttle.

As he's sitting in the cockpit, flipping switches and punching in coordinates, he hears Hux's thoughts from all the way at the bridge. They're rapid and organized, much like they were before Starkiller's fall. He's looking at a list of neglected work on his datapad, head filling up with numbers and schematics, plans to form and planets to seize. As Ren's shuttle takes off from the hangar, he manages to find that one thought Hux is so desperately trying not to dwell on:

_What happens to me now?_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I anticipate the next chapters to take EVEN longer to write because they're going to involve a lot more than our favorite idiots hanging out in their rooms and having sex. I admit it's a daunting task for me, because I'm not very good at writing about work-related stuff, especially not in this world.
> 
> Anyway, come find me on [tumblr](http://the-fluff-awaken.tumblr.com).


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been three months since Kylo Ren left for Eldion, and General Hux has been coping with his absence the best way he knows how—by burying himself in his work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What are military ranks? What does Hux even do other than bark orders and sneer at Ren? Why did I decide to write this?!

"The locals at Port Price are growing antsy, General," Captain Phasma reports, falling into step with Hux on his way to the bridge. He is handed a data pad by Corporal Cyna, his newly appointed assistant who always seems to be walking behind him, and he starts scrolling through the already opened file. "Our troopers stationed at the planet are reporting a growing resistance against their government."

An image of Port Price, a small freckle of a planet circling the same system in the Unknown Regions as Snoke's Eldion, is currently floating in front of Hux, projected by the data pad. Next to the rotating blue-tinged orb is a list of names of those currently seated in its government. Considering its proximity to Eldion, you would think their people would be more inclined to behave themselves, but apparently not. The planet is a small one, easy to miss if you don't know where to look. However, this small planet serves as the First Order's docking site in this system, its rich sea life providing not only food, but numerous invaluable minerals the Order cannot stand to lose. Hux's life would be so much easier if he could just blow the thing out of existence, but when has life ever been kind to the general?

He scrolls through the list, tapping at the names and checking the short data provided. When they reach the bridge, Hux turns to Cyna behind him. She's quite young, Cyna, big grey eyes alert and full of pep, the blonde hair in her tight bun so light it almost rivals Phasma's. The smattering of freckles across her nose does little to help her cause, signaling that she's spent most of her time planetside. Hux had almost passed on her when she was first offered to him as a replacement for his previous assistant, thrown off by her youth and minimal experience. However, after having reviewed her file, seen her top marks at the Academy that ensured a fast track promotion to her current rank, and read her glowing recommendations from people who held his respect, he decided to give her a shot. Even he, at some point in his life, did not have experience (and had a whole lot of his own freckles that have not entirely faded, no matter how long he's spent aboard numerous ships).

"Schedule a meeting with Administrator Lyn at her earliest convenience," he orders, handing the data pad to Cyna.

"Shall I tell her the nature of this meeting, Sir?"

Hux likes that about his new assistant, she has a way of conveying her questions without overstepping her bounds.

"Tell her I would like to discuss Jol-Ra," he answers simply, nodding his head when Cyna salutes and leaves to make the appointment.

"Is that all, Captain?" He turns to Phasma to his left, who is currently surveying the activity on the bridge. It's been a slow day, this business with Port Price notwithstanding. Even so, Hux's shift ended three hours ago, and yet here he still stands.

"Yes, Sir," Phasma answers, turning her helmeted head towards him.

"Very well, I'll be in my office. Ping me if needed."

"Sir," Phasma says when he turns to leave. Her voice is hesitant, and although her face is obscured, Hux senses her steeling herself for something. "Permission to speak freely, Sir?"

Hux turns back around, curious. "Permission granted."

Phasma reaches up and removes her helmet, revealing the concerned look on her face. Her blue eyes are almost startling against her pale complexion and platinum blond hair.

"Your shift has been over for three hours, Sir, and you plan to retire to your office for the night again?"

"Correct," Hux answers, unsure of where this is going.

"You need to take a break, Sir," Phasma continues, voice low so as not to be overheard by the rest of the personnel around them. "A proper one."

"I'm fine, Phasma," Hux says dismissively, looking away. "I just need to catch up on the work I left ignored during–"

He stops himself from mentioning Starkiller and Ren, eyes finding Phasma's again as if to challenge her to say something about it.

"You were only gone for little more than a week, Sir," Phasma says, and Hux does not miss how she struggles not to roll her eyes. "It's now been three standard months since Lord Ren left for–"

"Ren has nothing to do with–"

"Even so, there couldn't possibly have been this much work left unattended to for that short period of time."

When Hux doesn't answer, she continues, growing even bolder.

"Since you've been back, we've finished rebuilding the ship, placed leaders under the First Order's influence on two planets outside this system, and successfully won the endorsement of a prominent figure seated in the heart of the Resistance, without even leaving this ship."

"What is your point, Phasma?" Hux asks, growing tired of her misplaced concern. "Surely it's not just to list my accomplishments back to me. My ego does not need any boosting."

"My point is, Sir, you've proven your value to the Order well enough."

Hux gives her the sternest glare he can manage, a glare normally reserved for Ren, and Ren alone. How dare she speak his innermost fears out loud? He'd granted her permission to speak freely, but not to poke at his vulnerabilities like a child with a stick.

"You overstep your bounds, Captain," he warns, mouth pursing into a thin line.

"My apologies, Sir," she says quickly, ducking her head.

He turns without another word, leaving Phasma staring at her boots. His hands are shaking when he reaches his office, and it's only when he's been staring at an open report on his projectors for ten minutes without understanding a single word does he concede to himself that he's not going to get any more work done for tonight. Still, the prospect of retiring to his empty quarters is unappealing and produces a churning sensation in his stomach.  


* * *

  
Hux sits on an empty stool by the bar in the officer's lounge, his hands wrapped around a lowball glass containing his untouched whiskey. Behind him, a group of officers have pushed together several tables to accommodate their party, and he does his best to ignore the grating sound of their laughter. They're celebrating something or other, he's gathered nevertheless.

He stares at his reflection in the mirror behind the bar, and internally admits that Phasma has a point. Despite the weight he'd managed to regain since Ren's departure by going back to his healthier eating habits and the muscle he'd built by keeping up with his exercises at the training rooms and sparring with Phasma, he does look quite spent. The dark circles under his eyes confirm his lack of sleep. He's lucky if he gets three hours of uninterrupted sleep on the couch in his office, and his hands are almost constantly shaking from the sheer amount of caf he ingests in order to make up for his exhaustion. His complexion, though always having been fair, now carries a slight yellowish tinge. His lips are chapped and pale. Even his hair seems wilted, its color looking faded, its texture rough.

A shot glass containing a clear liquid with a strong alcoholic scent (vodka, if his nose is to be trusted) is placed next to his arm on the bar, and his eyes leave his reflection on the mirror to find Phasma's with an apologetic look on her face. She's dressed in civilian clothes—dark combat boots, tight black trousers that hug her long legs, a white sleeveless top that showcases her toned arms—and her short hair is styled in loose curls that cover her left ear.

"What's this, Phasma?" he asks, eyes darting from the shot glass next to him and the identical one still in her hand.

"A peace offering, Sir," she says, smiling broadly. He's never been able to stay mad at Phasma for very long; she's the closest thing he has to having a friend on this ship. Her smile tells him she's aware of this, and she clinks the bottom of her glass on the rim of his, urging him to take it.

"Very well," he drawls, picking the small glass and raising it briefly before downing its contents. He flinches as the pleasant burn of vodka travels down his throat and he shares a quiet laugh with the captain. It's his first drink of alcohol since Ren left.  


* * *

  
Back in his quarters, sporting a considerable buzz from several vodka shots shared with Phasma and, later on in the night, with the rest of the officers at the lounge (who'd turned out to be celebrating one of their members' birthday, but Hux had been too inebriated by the time he joined them to remember whose it was), Hux stumbles into his refresher to relieve his full bladder. He'd managed the walk back to his rooms without incident, but he'd refused to turn the lights on higher than 10% when he entered his quarters because a) it would hurt his head, and b) the lights would only highlight the vast emptiness around him. So he relieves himself, splashes water on his face, and undresses with clumsy fingers when he gets to his bedroom in considerable darkness. Despite his current state, he still puts his boots toes-first against the wall, still empties his pockets and dutifully places their contents on the small table by his bed, still folds his garments neatly before putting them inside the clothes hamper. He falls on the bed face first, wearing nothing but his undershorts. At the back of his mind, he knows he should slip under the covers; he's well aware that he will grow cold eventually, but he doesn't have the strength.

When his com link beeps an hour and a half later, he groans against his pillow before blindly reaching for the device. Squinting against the harsh blue light of his com, he reads the message with half of his face still buried against the pillow.

 **Supreme Leader Snoke :** _Kylo Ren's training will conclude in 72 hours. Be within orbit to meet his shuttle accordingly._

Hux abruptly sits up in his bed, after having barked, "Lights, 80%." He reads the message a second time, and then a third, turns his com link off, places it back on the table, then grabs it again to reread the message. His buzz is now completely gone, his fingers suddenly trembling in their search for activity. He jumps out of the bed, grabs a hooded sweatshirt from his closet and walks barefoot to the kitchen. After turning the caf maker on, he starts pacing back and forth, long fingers twirling the com link in his hand. 

He looks at the wall across from the couch in his den where a projected chronometer informs him that it is 0430 ship time. So much for taking a break, he scoffs, continuing in his pacing. His hyperactive mind suddenly starts drawing up scenarios of Ren's arrival. He will meet the shuttle, greet Ren with a formal nod, before proceeding to one of their quarters for a proper reunion. Or, he edits the scene as he pours himself a generous mug of caf, he will wait in Ren's quarters, get up from _his_ armchair and wait for the knight to pull him in for a long-awaited kiss. Or maybe he'll take the initiative, show Ren he's now more confident in their relationship than when they last parted. Or, the scene changes in his mind again, perhaps he can order one of the crew members to show Ren to his office, have their reunion there. He'd been fantasizing about being bent over his desk (or maybe bending Ren over it) since he'd started working there again.

He decides to do some work now that he's up anyway, knowing full well any attempt to get some sleep would be futile. He sits in front of his computer and turns it on, the bright light of the projector coloring his surroundings an eerie blue he has to squint against. He starts on his third mug of caf as he scrolls through the report he wanted to work on in his office before Phasma alluded to his working too much. His index finger starts tapping against the brim of his mug, his other hand scrolling and tapping away on the screen. When he finishes his caf, he realizes he's been scrolling away aimlessly, neither reading nor comprehending the blue blur of the report. His right knee is bobbing up and down, the fingers of his left hand drumming on his desk. His mind, usually so focused and compartmentalized, is a jumble of anxious thoughts and imagined scenarios. Numbers projected from the report fight their way through the buzz in his head to no avail.

When his jittering nearly knocks his mug off the desk, he gets up in a huff and runs his hands through his face and then his hair. He may have ingested too much caf too fast, he concedes, as he starts jogging in place to do something about the excessive energy he now has. With his mind this hyped up, he gives up on work, puts on a pair of sweats and grabs his wraps from his bedroom before heading for the training room. The early hour guarantees a solitary walk, whatever personnel currently on shift primarily located on the bridge and the security room. Still, Hux pulls the hood of his sweatshirt low over his eyes, feeling self-conscious for some unknown reason, as he starts wrapping his hands.

At the early hour of 0500, the training room seems much bigger than normal. The lights flicker on automatically as soon as Hux steps through the door, the floor-to-ceiling transparisteel window on the far side of the room revealing the expanse of space surrounding their ship. He starts running laps around the room, fighting to keep his breathing even despite the fast thumping of his heart that has nothing to do with the exercise. He runs until he feels his head clearing slowly, until his chrono buzzes to inform him that his heart rate has reached its normal running rate, until his throat feels a little parched. He grabs a quick drink of water from the watercooler in one of the corners of the room, then heads for his favorite heavy bag. He abuses it until he feels the familiar ache in his arms, pushes himself further for a few more minutes. When his body is pleasantly sore and his mind is somewhat calmer, he grabs a clean towel from the shelf above the row of benches lining an entire wall of the room and wipes the sweat from his face, neck, chest and upper back. He tosses it into the laundry bag by the door and heads back to his quarters where he downs a large glass of water before jumping in the shower.

By 0630, he has had his breakfast (a veggie omelette, two pieces of toast, and some breakfast fruit), and is dressed in his complete uniform. He arrives at the bridge thirty minutes early for his first shift, as is his custom. Already, he can see Cyna on hand by her desk positioned by the exit that leads to the hallway, and he feels a swell of pride for having chosen an adjutant who easily keeps up with his demands.

"BRIDGE, AH-TehN-SHUN!" Phasma's booming voice rings out across the room, causing a visible ripple amongst those present. Backs straighten, eyes snap to his person.

"Carry on," he commands and the room goes back to its earlier activity.

"Good morning, Sir." Cyna appears by his side, snapping her heels and saluting him.

"At ease, Corporal."

"Communication arrived early this morning from Eldion, Sir, regarding Lord Ren's–" Cyna starts, handing him a data pad.

"Yes, it was sent to my com as well," he answers, dismissing the pad with a wave of his hand.

"Very well, Sir."

Cyna leaves for her desk after a salute, busying herself with her data pad and computer. Hux turns his attention to the bridge, where everything seems to be running smoothly. He walks around, peering over shoulders and observing the work. Two officers approach him with data reports that need his signature, Phasma reports on a new shipment of troopers that is scheduled to arrive by the end of the week, and he is called to the engineering wing to look over plans for another massive weapon. This last activity makes his stomach knot, and he struggles against a lump in his throat as the designs are presented to him. None of these designs come close to the sophistication of Starkiller, no matter how many of them he approves. There is simply not enough resources to fund another planetary weapon. Even if there were, he would be hard-pressed to get Snoke's approval to commission a bigger and better Starkiller, not after what happened to the original. So he approves designs, oversees their manufacturing, and carries on as best he can.

He returns to the bridge at 0900, where Cyna accosts him once again, her overheated data pad clutched in her hands.

"Administrator Lyn's assistant and I have gone over your schedules, Sir, and I'm afraid the earliest time she can meet with you is tomorrow, at 1400 ship time."

"Very well," he approves, glancing down at the data pad in her hand. "Hold on, I believe there is a staff meeting at 1330." He scrolls through her data pad, searching for the appointment.

"I've moved it to 1300, Sir, to avoid the overlap," she answers. "Pending your approval, of course."

"That sounds alright. Secure Conference Room 2 for the call to Port Price tomorrow."

"Very good, Sir." Cyna nods, salutes, then returns to her desk.

Hux heads for the mess hall at the end of his first shift for lunch two hours later, joining Phasma and a few of the officers from last night at their table. The conversation is stilted at first; most of the officers are not as confident around him without the help of vodka. Phasma engages him in conversation easily, however, and soon, the table is back to its previous atmosphere.

"Am I the only one nursing a massive hangover right now?" Phasma asks him conspiratorially.

"I went for a workout this morning," Hux answers, tucking into his food and neglecting to mention how early he'd gone to the training room. "I find that sweating helps me."

"That's scientifically inaccurate," Phasma snorts, shaking her head. "You need to replenish your electrolytes, not expel more of it."

"I'm aware," Hux answers, pointedly uncapping his Hydrade and taking a long swig.

Hux politely declines Phasma's invitation to join in on a friendly game of sabacc against the other officers, opting instead to spend the half hour before his second shift in his office. He finally gets to work on that report that stubbornly refused to be read before, finishing it just in time for him to get back to the bridge by 1200.

Second and third shift blur together as he opts to forego his usual afternoon tea during the half hour break. He finishes numerous paperwork, looks over progress reports from Phasma's troopers, and takes a call from one of the lieutenants stationed in Port Price. Even after having dinner at the mess hall after his third shift was supposed to end, he returns to his office to do research for his call with Administrator Lyn the next day.

"Cyna," he calls, pressing a button on his desk communicator that directly connects to Cyna's just across the hall. He's barely released the button when Cyna appears at his door.

"Yes, Sir?"

"Can I have everything we have on Lyn and Port Price, from officials and civilians to docking info and schedules."

"I'll send them to your inbox, Sir. Anything else?"

"That's all, Corporal," Hux answers. "I'll see you first shift tomorrow."

"Good night, Sir."

He retires to his quarters around midnight, willing to spend the night there now that Ren's arrival is mere days away. Already, his bedroom doesn't feel quite as empty, the bed not so large.

For the first time since Ren left for Eldion, Hux sleeps soundly in his own bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter. Sorry for the lack of Kylux interaction, but Ren comes back next chapter! Yay!
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://the-fluff-awakens.tumblr.com).


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren's training, and his time in Eldion, comes to an end.

_He is drifting in the void. Or is he floating? He forgets. All around him, there is only the pitch black of utter emptiness. Even if he opens his eyes, he will find nothing, his mind working extensively to block out all physical stimuli. The emptiness strengthens his connection to the Force. His hair circles his head, graceful tendrils caressing his cheeks. His skin glows just beneath the surface, the warm orange glow pulsing as he lets the Force envelope his body._

_Somewhere on the other side of the island, a group of Eldioni, the stocky humanoid coral-toned inhabitants of this planet, are playing a game involving a tall net and bouncing a ball over it using only their feet, their three-fingered hands clasped behind their backs. On the other side of the planet, a grey six-legged beast drives its hooves against the golden trunk of a tree, catching the round fruit that dislodges from its upper branches with one of its two mouths. Just outside the planet's orbit, if he stretches his mind just hard enough, he catches the barest hint of a general's anxious mind._

Ren opens his eyes, lets it adjust under the clear blue green water his body is submerged in, and lets his consciousness snap back to his current surroundings. Different species of aquatic animals circle the bubble he's formed around his body, wary of the intruder, yet curious enough to test the strength of its protective shield. Taking a deep breath, Ren lets the bubble burst, scaring the animals around him into hiding, and he kicks his legs and pulls against the water with his arms. He breaks the surface of the water after swimming for less than 3 minutes, the light of the afternoon sun bright overhead.

By the time he gets to the shore, his body is sore all over. Whether it aches from the swim, or from his over stretching his mind, he can't tell. He knows he shouldn't have tried to look for Hux like that, knows he should be concentrating on other things. He came to this planet to finish his training, and if Snoke caught a whiff of his extracurricular activities, Ren could only guess the consequences. For three months now, Snoke has put Ren through rigorous exercises, testing both his mind and body. Any time he's had a moment to himself, he's tried to check on Hux through the Force. He never gets more than the occasional flicker, the strong connection he'd formed with Hux that final night on the Finalizer more than likely the only reason he's getting even that small spark. Occasionally, he wonders if his master can sense this connection, if he can see it extending from his chest and up into outer space. If Snoke can, he shows no sign of knowing about it.

He all but collapses on the sand, his arms like limp noodles on his sides as he lies on his back. Without needing to open his eyes, he senses some form of nautical creature peeking out at him from the water, its curiosity a light but persistent buzz in the Force. He lifts one hand up from the sand, makes a circle with his thumb and forefinger, the rest of his fingers splayed out, and the creature slinks back under the water. He smiles as he lowers his hand again, and he pictures how Hux would react to the knowledge that in his absence, Ren's managed to make friends with sea creatures.

When he's managed to calm his breathing, and the headache forming behind his eyeballs dissipates, he pushes himself into a sitting position and looks around. The afternoon sun makes the rippling tides of the ocean shimmer like glitter, the sounds of the smooth waves threatening to lull him to sleep. The sand beneath him is warm, but not hot, its cream color almost blinding in the sunshine. This part of the island is bordered by tall trees, making it feel secluded and safe. It's _his_ spot. He's never stumbled onto anyone else here, and he feels a sort of possessiveness over it. He thinks about leaving it behind, knows he will miss having it at his disposal once he's back on the Finalizer. His meditation chamber will probably feel foreign now. He will look for the texture of sand (which he once hated, but has since realized he quite enjoys when accompanied by the water), the warmth of the sun, the sounds of the sea. The curious little underwater friends he's made.

He gets up and brushes the sand from his pants, a futile gesture seeing as he's covered with it. He imagines Hux attempting to run his fingers through his hair now, how his hand will snag and get tangled, the face he'll make in disgust. Ren smiles despite himself.

The walk back to the hut he's called home for the last three months is short—it's just beyond the trees that borders the beach. He had found it strange when, the first time he'd stumbled on his sanctuary during one of his late night walks, the tall cream-colored grass surrounding the hut suddenly turned into the packed soil of the thin jungle, and _then_ into the loose sand of the beach. It was indeed a strange little island, in a strange little planet.

"Ky-O!" a scratchy, small voice calls as soon as he steps out from behind the trees. "Ky-Oooo!" It comes from his right, which means–

A few feet to his left, the cream grass that reaches up to his thighs start to shake, something small, quick, and unseen slithering towards him. He puts his right foot behind him, bends his knees and lifts his open hands in front of his chest. His eyes follow the erratic path of the creature. He flexes his fingers, readies himself. The movement stops.

"Come on, then," he calls loudly. "You don't scare me!"

Suddenly, something small and compact shoots out of the grass, a light pink blur headed for his chest.

"KY-OOOOOOO!" it screams again, just as Ren catches it with his arms. It makes a scratchy, breathy giggling sound as Ren looks down at it, long brown corkscrew curls covering its face.

"Gotcha!" Ren laughs, tightening his arms around its body. The little boy shakes his hair out of his big brown eyes, pushing the curls that get caught in his long lashes with two of his three chubby fingers. "What are you up to, Jago?"

"La says wait for Ky-O," Jago laughs, throwing his short arms around Ren's neck as Ren starts walking towards the hut. "La has message."

Ren moved into Jago's family's hut on his third day on the planet after Snoke introduced him to Jago's mother (or 'La'), Yan, who worked as a part-time cook at his citadel. Her husband, Jin (Jago's 'Lo'), works as a guard there, as well, though Ren never really understood why. The whole planet is Snoke's, as far as he can tell, and whenever he reaches out with the Force to check if there is any form of threat, he comes up empty. Still, Jin is an honorable man, and Ren isn't going to question his source of income. 

In exchange for their taking Ren in, the family is given more resources and enough credits to buy their own dock in Port Price. The hut is small, not having been built for someone of Ren's stature, but he likes it. Jago's been relocated to his parents' bedroom when Ren moved into his small room, and though he's meant to sleep there for the duration of Ren's stay, he's been sleeping next to Ren for two months now. The mat is too small even for Ren alone, but he doesn't mind the company at all. Most of the time, Jago ends up sleeping on Ren's chest anyway.

Jago laughs his breathy laugh when Ren swings him up to sit on his broad shoulders, bouncing him twice and causing the child to wrap his short arms around his forehead for support. The Eldioni, though humanoid, are short but heavy, kind but strong. Children like Jago do not fully learn to control their strength until they hit puberty, and Ren knows his headache will come back if he lets Jago cling to his head like that for long. He takes Jago's wrists into his hands, tugs at them until his forehead is freed, and holds onto them as they take the short walk back to their hut.

"La-Aaaaa!" Jago calls. To Ren's ears, it's a mere whisper, but he knows the sound will travel loudly towards the hut. Eldioni are experts in projecting their voices, their children not even needing to learn to do it. Even the wordless cries of their babies are projected, so that their parents can hear them from anywhere in the house. "Ky-O's heee-ere!"

A few seconds later, just as they reach the front of the hut, Yan's small face peeks from the front window. She smiles up at them. "Get cleaned up, it's time to eat."

Ren kicks his boots off and leaves them next to the three steps that lead inside the hut. As soon as he walks in, crouching low and covering Jago's head with his large hand to keep it from hitting the door frame, Ren's nose is assaulted by the warm smell of the thick stew he's grown to love. He is not entirely sure what Yan puts in the thick yellow concoction, but Ren devours the soypro and various cheeses like a starving rathtar every time they have it. The smell is accompanied by that of the flat garlic-flavored bread Yan makes by hand. One of the advantages of living with a professional cook? Homemade hearty meals.

One of its disadvantages, Ren ponders half an hour later, is how much weight one gains. He tugs on the belt that cinches his waist for the third time since they started eating. He takes a deep breath before tearing a piece of flat bread and soaking it in the yellow sauce on his plate. Jago laughs, pointing one finger at Ren, before copying him and wiping his plate messily with his bread.

"Ky-O can't breathe," Jago says. "Ky-O eat too much."

"Yes, well," Ren answers, popping the piece of bread into his mouth and licking his thumb, "Kylo's being polite. Kylo doesn't want to hurt your La's feelings."

"Don't blame me for your gluttony, Kylo," Yan says, pretending to scold him. Despite the grease and runny sauce that coats their meal, her fingers remain clean and pristine. Ren can't figure out how she does it. She chews delicately and watches him finish his plate.

"Jago said you had a message?" He finally unhooks his belt and rests it on the floor next to his folded legs. He holds his fist over his mouth as he burps, causing Jago to start laughing hysterically before releasing his own scratchy burp as well.

"Honestly, you two," Yan admonishes, taking their plates and getting up from her seat. "If Jin were here–"

"Lo burps loudest!"

"He really does," Ren says, chuckling under his breath when Yan just shakes her head and deposits the plates on the large wash basin in the small kitchen.

"Leader Snoke wants to see you first thing tomorrow," Yan says, her back to them as she washes the dishes. Ren hears her loud and clear from where he's seated. "I'm to bring you to the citadel when I come in for work."

"Alright, and what time is that?"

"Before first light."

"Ugh." Ren flops down on the floor dramatically, his arms extended on his sides. Jago follows suit, resting his head on Ren's stomach, his thick curls bouncing lightly.

"Get off the floor, you two!" Yan is back from the kitchen, holding two sticks of frozen fruit juice in each hand. "If you're too full, I suppose you don't want these?"

Ren and Jago sit up abruptly, taking a stick each. Yan rolls her eyes before sitting down. Dents appear on her cheeks as she watches Jago bite down on his dessert. Ren holds his laughter as he waits for the inevitable explosion.

"Aaaaah!" Jago scrunches up his face and holds his head with one hand.

"I told you not to eat these too quickly," Ren laughs, licking his own fruit stick.

"Oooow," Jago cries, handing the stick back to Yan.

"That's how you know you have a brain," Yan jokes, sucking on what's left of the frozen dessert.  


* * *

  
That night, Ren finds he cannot sleep. Jago is contentedly curled into a ball on his chest, his snores a soft pleasant rumble that is not quite enough to lull Ren to sleep. Despite his time at the beach that afternoon, his mind is a jumble that is in dire need of a good long meditation. Snoke's summons is not entirely unexpected. Aside from their scheduled meetings five days out of the standard seven a week of this planet, his master often calls him to his citadel to give him further instructions regarding his training. Sometimes it's to send him off to stay a few days in some mountain on the far side of this island, other times its as simple as commanding Ren to bring him back a pebble from the deepest part of the ocean by their hut. There's something about this particular summons, though, that nags at him. He can't explain it, and he certainly can't reach out and pluck the answer from Snoke's mind. Even if he could manage it against someone as powerful as his master, the consequences would be astronomical.

He gives up on sleep entirely when he senses Jin returning from his late shift from the citadel. Gently, Ren lifts Jago from his chest and settles him down on the sleeping mat, tucking the thin blanket around his little body. He can't help the smile that forms on his lips when Jago sighs in his sleep. He exits the bedroom just as Jin enters the hut through the front door. Ren watches as Jin unhooks his blaster from his belt and checks that it's powered off before hanging it on a hook by the door.

"Hey," Jin says quietly, nodding his head as Ren raises his hand in greeting. "They asleep?"

"Jago is," Ren answers, sitting on one of the pillows around the dining table and folding his long legs awkwardly. He tilts his head slightly, turning towards Yan and Jin's bedroom door just as Jin returns from the kitchen with a plastic box that contains more of the yellow stew they had for dinner earlier. "Yan is, too," he confirms.

"So why aren't you?" Jin asks, sitting next to him and eating a forkful of soypro. He offers the container to Ren, who shakes his head.

"I've been _summoned_ ," Ren says darkly, his eyes narrowing at the word. "I'm supposed to be at the citadel by first light."

"So? That's nothing new."

"Feels like it."

Ren doesn't know what it is about Jin that makes him feel secure enough to be honest with him. From the day they first met, Ren knew he could trust the man instantly. Jin looks at him with his big brown eyes, identical to Jago's, framed by the same long lashes. His thick eyebrows quirk up on his brow, but he doesn't say anything. The Eldioni do not feel the need to fill every silence with senseless chatter, a trait Ren has learned to appreciate throughout his stay on the planet. They sit in silence as Jin finishes his late dinner, wiping the container clean with the last piece of his flat bread before popping it into his mouth. He unhooks a water sac from his belt and drinks from it before burping loudly. Ren smiles, remembering Jago's hysterical laughter earlier.

"There are frozen fruit sticks in the conservator," Ren says, and Jin grins before getting up. He returns with two sticks and hands one to Ren. Ren thanks him and starts sucking on it thoughtfully.

"I think maybe you're leaving," Jin says after a while.

"What makes you say that?" Ren asks, resting his elbows on the table.

"Snoke had Merkel send a message back to your ship the other day, said your training is concluding soon."

Ren furrows his brow, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly.

"Jago is going to be a nightmare," Jin says, chuckling. "He's very fond of you. He's grown used to having you around."

Ren smiles half-heartedly. He can't say he won't be glad to be back on the Finalizer, but there are so many things he will miss here as well, Jago and his family chief among them. This family is what he imagines a family should be—happy, loving, and content in each other's company. If he tries hard enough, he thinks he can remember a time when he had something similar, when he was around Jago's age.

"I'm going to miss our late night talks, too," Jin adds. The Eldioni are an honest people; they have no qualms about vocalizing their thoughts. Ren is still not sure how he feels about this trait. Right now, he thinks he's okay with it.

"As will I," he says, smiling at the older man. "I don't really have many people I can talk to like this on my ship."

"You must have friends."

"Not a lot, no," he says, shaking his head. "One, maybe," he concedes. "Though I'm not sure 'friend' is the right word for him."

"Well, you have at least three on this planet." Jin reaches up to place a hand on Ren's shoulder and jostles him a little. Ren smiles and ducks his head. "I will see about getting a comlink for the house, so we can communicate when you go."

"I'd like that."

"It's the only way I can see to pacify Jago," Jin says, getting up from his seat. He pats Ren on his shoulder one last time before heading for his bedroom. "Good night, Kylo."

"Good night, Jin." 

A few hours later, Yan places a cup of caf in front of Ren. He hasn't gotten up from where Jin left him, having meditated until he sensed Yan getting out of bed. She returns with a plate of some fried dumplings covered in red sauce, and they eat in silence. When they've both eaten several dumplings each and have finished their cups of caf, they finally greet each other good morning.

"You better wash up," Yan says, gathering the dishes. "We have to leave soon."

When Ren returns to his bedroom from the 'fresher, Jago is still snoring softly, the blanket now a knotted ball by his feet. Ren picks him up and hands him to Yan outside, who then takes him to their room to let him sleep next to Jin. Less than half an hour later, with the sky still dark and the air still cold, they sit silently on the transport headed for Snoke's citadel. Ren sticks his head out of the open window when it comes into view.

The citadel is a big rectangular building the same color as the sand on Ren's beach. Tall thick walls line both sides of what looks like a black narrow gap from this distance, but is actually the castle entrance. The opening is so tall, Ren thinks he can manuever his command shuttle through it if he were so inclined. There are only two rows of windows, but Ren knows there are several floors below the ground, having taken more than one winding stone staircase to reach the different underground rooms before. Yan works in one of the rooms below ground, and she often talks about how thick the air down there can get, the heat from the stoves causing some of her co-workers to sometimes faint.

Ren and Yan get off the transport when it stops in front of the building. Ren cranes his neck and looks up at the building looming at them much like Snoke's projection used to do over Hux and himself. The dark blue sky has started to turn into the dark violet of dawn, and Yan places a small hand on his arm to urge him forward.

"Come on, Kylo," she says.

They part just past the entrance, Yan smiling kindly at him before disappearing down a stone staircase. He walks across the dark floor, while behind him, he senses the island waking up. Finally, he's standing before a set of heavy doors, dark brown and carved with what appear to be random patterns. He pushes against one door, and steps into the room, the tall windows on two of its walls letting in the soft light of the morning. Ahead of him, on top of a platform and sitting on a black and red throne, is Snoke.

Snoke, who is nothing like his holo projection at all. Instead of the drab gray shapeless clothing his projection wore, the man in front of Ren is wearing a black long-sleeved tunic with a high collar, tight black pants and a pair of calf-high boots. Over his shoulders, a thick black robe is draped, clasped just above his clavicle. He's not nearly as big, nor as gruesome-looking. Though he is tall, he's not as tall as Ren, probably not even as tall as Hux. He is not bald, but what hair he has is cut close to his scalp, and is a dark brown. He doesn't have as many scars, either. He only has the one over his right eye, a thin line extending from his eyebrow to his cheekbone. His nose is sharp and straight. His mouth is too wide for his thin face, and when he smiles (which he seems to do quite a lot), his sharp teeth makes it look sinister. When he first arrived and met Snoke in person, Ren was pretty sure his master was human. Now, he's not entirely sure. Perhaps he was once human, but has turned into something else over the years.

"Master," he says quietly, lowering his head in supplication, before walking briskly to stand before the steps that lead up to the throne.

"Kylo Ren," Snoke says calmly. His voice is deep, smooth like chocolate. "You seem concerned."

Ren finally raises his head to look up at Snoke, fighting to keep his expression neutral.

"Not concerned, Master," he answers. "Just curious."

"Curious about why I have summoned you here?" Snoke asks.

"Yes, Master."

"But you have some idea, I can sense it. Jin has told you about the message."

"He doesn't mean any harm," Ren says quickly, feeling something drop in his stomach.

"There's no need to worry," Snoke says, waving his hand, before replacing it over the arm of his throne. His long slender fingers lazily drum against the black metal. "The information he gave you is accurate. I have informed General Hux of your arrival. The ship is expecting you in a few hours, 0400 ship time."

"Yes, Master," he repeats, ignoring the nagging feeling in his head.

"You're still concerned. Do you not think your training is complete?"

"It isn't that," he starts, then stops abruptly. "If you believe I've learned all I can, then it must be so."

"I do believe it." Snoke nods, his mouth slowly stretching into that grin. "I even have something to commemorate your...shall we call it graduation?"

Ren can't help answering his master's smile with his own tentative one. Snoke extends an arm to his left, and Ren turns his head to see a wooden box sitting on a tall table in the corner. He walks over to it and when he's close enough to touch it, he sees that it's made from the same material as the doors to this throne room. It even has the same carved patterns on the lid.

"Go on, Kylo," Snoke calls from his throne. "Open it."

Ren lifts the lid and feels his breath catch in his throat. He runs his fingers over the matte black surface of his new helmet before pulling it out of the box. It looks the same as his old one, but not exactly. Aside from this one being brand new, free of scratches and dents, this helmet looks sharper, the silver metal curving around the visor somehow crisper. The back is longer and narrower, too.

"Thank you, Master," he says, his voice breaking. He turns around and looks back up at Snoke, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"You're welcome," Snoke says, still smiling. "There is, however, one final test."

The nagging feeling returns. Ren's grip on his new helmet tightens.  


* * *

  
Ren steers his command shuttle under the Finalizer. Once the docking claw locks onto the shuttle, he starts the sequence for system shutdown. It's a mindless task for him now, something his body goes through automatically. Pressing down buttons, pulling on levers, flipping switches. 

_"Kylo? What's–" Yan's voice is cut off by the buzzing sound of a lightsaber powering on._

Ren is jostled in his seat as the shuttle is pulled into the main hangar. He gets up from the pilot seat and reaches for his new helmet. He stands in front of the ramp, puts his helmet on, and slams a fist on the access pad. He takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders and tightens his fists as the ramp lowers inch by inch.

_"Hey, Kylo! What are you doing back so early?"_

_It takes a moment for Jin to comprehend what is happening. It takes even longer for it to register on his face. He blanches, looks over his shoulder towards the bedroom. Looking back, his eyes dart to the blaster hanging by the door. Next to Kylo._

It is 0430 ship time, half an hour later than his estimated time of arrival. Still, Hux is standing a few feet from the open ramp, hands clasped behind his back. He looks good, Ren can't help but note. Though there are still dark circles around his eyes, he no longer looks like the ghost of a man Ren left behind. He's gained weight, his cheeks no longer sunken, and he fills out his uniform even more than before. Behind him, a handful of officers pay them no mind in the flight control bridge. Hux looks his usual formal self, chin stiff, back rigid, feet apart. His eyes, however, stare longingly at Ren's through the dark visor of his helm. Without needing to use the Force, Ren knows the general has not moved from his spot for more than half an hour.

Ren walks down the ramp, his feet heavy in their boots. The sound of his steps must surely reverberate throughout the entire ship. It feels like a lifetime before he finally reaches Hux.

"Welcome back, Lord Ren," Hux says in greeting. His voice is crisp, but the corner of his mouth tilts. The warning of a smile.

_"Ky-O? Where's Lo?"_

_Jago sits up from his parents' bed, rubbing at his eyes. His breathy, scratchy voice is small, confused but trusting._

"General," Ren says coldly. He tips his head forward slightly, clenches his fists tighter. Without another word, he steps to the side and walks away from the astounded general. Walking away feels like climbing a hill of loose sand. 

_"Ky-O?"_

"Ren?"  


* * *

  
The trip to his quarters feels like the longest walk he's ever taken, yet when he stands in his den, the door behind him hissing shut, he barely remembers how he got there. His hands shake as he pushes on the release button of his helmet, almost dropping it when he places it on the low table in front of the couch. He looks down at his gloved hands, still shaking, and grits his teeth when his vision starts to blur. A small red stripe smears the space between the thumb and index finger of his right hand. Blindly, he tears his gloves off, throws them across the room. His hand reaches for the lightsaber hanging from his belt and, without thinking about it, powers it on.

Holding the hilt with both hands, he swings the blade down on the shelves behind his armchair. A gut-wrenching howl is ripped from his chest as he lets loose on everything he can reach.  


* * *

  
Over the next few days, Hux doggedly tries to talk to him privately. Each attempt is met with a cold dismissal. Ren now makes it a point to avoid being left alone with Hux for any significant amount of time, staying on the opposite side of the room whenever they have to share a shift on the bridge. He keeps his helmet on at all times, however, so he can follow Hux's every movement without being seen. As each days passes, Hux's resolve wavers, until he finally gives up entirely a week after Ren's arrival.

The Force around Hux darkens each day, as do the circles under his eyes. He knows Hux isn't sleeping again, and every time he sees him in the mess hall, he pokes at his food tray disinterestedly. Ren can feel Phasma growing concerned. Apparently, prior to his arrival, Hux had been eating more. Every night, when his shift ends, instead of going back to his quarters, Hux heads for the officer's lounge where he shares several drinks with Phasma and some other officers. Once, Ren decided to have a drink there himself, staying at the other end of the bar from Hux and his group. That had been a colossal mistake. At least three officers kept imagining going to bed with Hux, and it took all his willpower not to throw each of them across the room.

After the lounge, Hux still doesn't go back to his quarters. He stays in his office, preferring to sleep on the uncomfortable couch than in his bed. No wonder he barely gets any sleep. Ren keeps wanting to tell him off for it, is sometimes even tempted to drag him back to his bedroom, but he refrains. What happened in Eldion showed him what forming attachments got him. When he found himself emotionally compromised after killing Han, Snoke wanted him to learn to cut off attachments better. His master believed it would get easier every time he did it.

It wasn't the first time his master had been wrong.

"Lord Ren."

Hux enters the conference room, catching him off guard. He can't remember the last time the Supreme Leader met with Hux, but he supposes they could have started communicating again when Ren was in Eldion.

"General."

"I'm starting to think that planet has taken away the rest of your vocabulary," Hux says flatly, coming to stand next to him. He doesn't look up from his datapad, though Ren knows Hux is acutely aware of his presence.

Ren smiles behind his mask, clenching his fists when he feels the urge to touch Hux. He wants to start pacing, just to have something to do, but doing so will draw more attention to himself. He thinks of the Eldioni, and their ability to remain calm during awkward silences. He feels a galaxy away from the planet.

"You don't look too well, General."

_Damn it._

Hux scoffs at his datapad and shakes his head. He raises his head slowly, turns it slightly to stare at Ren's visor.

"You barely say two words to me for a week, and when you finally talk, it's to insult me?"

Before Ren can answer, Snoke's oversized projection flickers on in front of them. Vaguely, Ren wonders if his master would still appear in this form had Hux not been with them.

"Lord Ren. General Hux."

"Supreme Leader," Hux answers, head tilted back to look at Snoke's reflection.

"Master."

"General, anything to report?"

"I've met with Administrator Lyn of Port Price regarding the growing threat planetside," Hux says, looking down at his pad again. "Apparently, a local named Jol-Ra is at the center of everything. He's been leading rallies against the Order, insinuating that we are stripping them of their own resources with little to no compensation."

"We haven't blown their planet up, that's compensation enough," Ren interjects.

Hux visibly bristles next to him, no doubt more angry about the interruption than anything else. Hux takes a deep, steadying breath before turning to look at him.

"We cannot blow up Port Price," he says slowly, like he's talking to a child. "Its resources are too valuable, it's placed at the center of our operations. The locals know it. We know it. They know we know it."

"What do you plan to do about it, then, General?" Snoke asks, drawing Hux's attention back to his projection. "I expect between you and the administrator, we've come up with a plan of action."

"Lyn suggested an assassination during one of their rallies. It's quick and will send a message to anyone who might want to stand against the Order in the future. She has an operator in mind."

"Hmm." Snoke's projection steeples its fingers and sits back on its throne. Ren doesn't understand the apprehension, to be honest. He thinks the plan is a good one.

"I suggested meeting with the man," Hux says, when Snoke seems displeased with the plan. "Bribing him, if we can spare the credits."

"And you think this man can be bribed?" Snoke asks, leaning forward, obviously more interested in this second plan.

"Everyone has a price," Hux says, shrugging one shoulder. "This way, we can make him gradually change his tune in our favor without the risk of locals losing faith in us."

Snoke's fingers drum against each other as he considers this.

"Very well, we go with your plan, General."

"I'll have Lyn meet with him as soon as we've transferred the credits," Hux says, already tapping away at his pad.

"No, General," Snoke says. "You will meet with this man personally. It needs to come directly from the Order."

Ren feels Hux stiffen, and he can't blame him. He doesn't think Hux should meet with this man himself. This is an insignificant rebel, a mere insect to a man of Hux's stature. Not to mention the risks of sending the First Order's highest ranking officer to a country in the brink of a civil war. Hux doesn't seem to be afraid, however; he seems to be insulted.

"Yes, Supreme Leader," he says steadily, and Snoke dismisses him with a wave of his hand. Hux turns without so much as a glance towards Ren, and walks briskly out of the room.

"You think it a bad plan," Snoke says, his eyes turning to Ren when the door closes.

"I see no reason for the General himself to be planetside," Ren answers. "The administrator should be able to convey the Order's wishes sufficiently."

"You question my command?" Snoke asks calmly.

"I don't, Master," Ren says, bowing his head. "I just think–"

"Never mind what you think, Lord Ren," Snoke says, cutting him off. He's starting to sound impatient. "You have your own mission to worry about."

Ren knows Snoke wants him to be excited about this, but his mind is still on Hux. He is actually disappointed that he apparently will not be able to accompany Hux to Port Price, if his mission coincided with the general's.

"Yes, Master," he answers half-heartedly.

"Once you complete this mission, you will have earned your new name."

This finally catches Ren's attention. His head snaps up in surprise, and Snoke's lips stretch into a smile.

"You are to kill the General once his mission at Port Price is done."

  
   
   
   
   
   
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My heart hurts from what I had Ren do to Jago and his family. I tried bargaining with myself, tried to deviate from the outline I made, but there just was no way around it. It had to be done. Doing it in snippets of a flashback was the most I could do, and I still cried. Ugh! Please don't hate my Ren too much.
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://the-fluff-awakens.tumblr.com).


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux goes on his mission to Port Price.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took forever to update. I always knew this chapter, as well as the next one, was going to be a hard one to write. Also, I kept getting distracted with my other stories. There are just so many AUs! So, forgive me, and happy reading!

Hux is going to hit something. Or someone. Preferably _someone_ by the name of Kylo Ren.

When Ren first returned, he had made it perfectly clear that he had wanted nothing to do with Hux, at least nothing outside of their professional relationship. For a whole week, Hux had completely swallowed his pride and tried everything to get the knight to talk to him, from cornering him in corridors, to standing outside his personal quarters, asking to be let in. Ren had turned him down again and again, had even made sure they weren't left alone for long periods of time. When they were in the same room, no matter how occupied and large the room was, Ren stationed himself in the farthest corner from Hux. If Hux moved, so did he, adjusting his position so as to ensure the maximum allowable distance between them was met.

Hux had been devastated. He'd gone back to barely eating, his stomach now in a constant knot of anxiety and depression. His back was in constant agony from nodding off in his office and avoiding his bed. This was far worse than Ren being off ship. This was Ren _choosing_ not to be with Hux. This was Ren spending months without Hux and realizing he preferred it that way.

It put into question everything they'd had before. Hux had mistakenly thought it was more than a physical thing between them, but he was apparently mistaken. Ren had simply just been at the lowest point of his life, much like he himself had been, and had sought out something warm to fill his bed. Perhaps anybody would have sufficed, and he'd just chosen Hux because he'd already been there and had shown his interest. Or because they were technically the same rank. Whatever his reasons, they were not the same as Hux's.

But now Ren seems to be interested again, if not in a physical relationship, at least in being close to Hux once more and saying more than one word to him. 

After meeting with Snoke (and Ren) for the first time since Starkiller fell, Hux had gone straight to his office to start working on his mission. He'd asked Cyna to confer with Administrator Lyn or her assistant as to what the rebel's price might be, and to work out when, where and how best to approach him.

He's waiting for Cyna to get back to him, looking at some of the plans for weapons he's approved and checking which ones might get scrapped in favor of accumulating enough credits to bribe Jol-Ra with when his office door opens and Ren casually strides in. Hux is taken aback for only a short moment, eyebrows rising as he watches Ren's head swivel around the room. When the mask finally faces Hux on his desk, he puts on his best sneer.

"What do you want, Ren?" he asks, not bothering to keep the irritation from his voice.

"When will you meet with this rebel at Port Price?"

Hux hates Ren's new helmet. It's even uglier than the first one, and it's got the same voice modulator that changes Ren's smooth deep voice into an ominous spine-tingling horror of a sound.

"Not that it's any of your business, but there are still some things that need to be worked out."

"Such as?"

Hux sighs heavily, wishing he kept alcohol in his office. He'll talk to Cyna about that soon.

"Acquiring the necessary funds, figuring out where the meeting will take place, sending a message to the target."

Ren seems to consider this, humming under his helmet. It sounds like a rathtar in heat. He clasps his hands behind his back and starts pacing in front of Hux's desk.

"You will have him picked up by Lyn's people and brought to a secure location," Ren says, and Hux wonders if he's trying his Jedi mind tricks on him.

"I don't need you to strategize for me, _Lord_ Ren." He spits out the title angrily, even though he thinks Ren's idea is sound.

"Let me know when you've worked out the when and where, Hu-...General."

"Like I said, it is none of your business," Hux grits out through his teeth. "This is _my_ mission, and I do not need _your_ help."

"I will accompany you to–"

" _You most certainly will not!_ " Hux is now standing behind his desk, fists clenched at his sides.

Had Ren not acted the way he did upon his return, the idea of going on a mission without Ren by his side would have seemed idiotic to Hux. Now, it just feels insulting.

"I am a General of the First Order, commander of this ship–"

"Co-commander–"

"–and I am perfectly capable of going on a simple mission without a babysitter."

"It's not like that, Hux–"

Ren stops at his slip, visibly flinching at the name. He sighs heavily, raising his hands to touch his helmet as if to remove it. He hasn't done so in front of Hux since he's come back. Hux deeply wishes he wouldn't now. He doesn't know what his own face would betray if he sees Ren's indifferent look.

"Get out, Ren."

Ren lowers his clenched hands and stares at Hux for a moment. When he turns and leaves, Hux sits back down with a huff and slams his fist down on his desk.

* * *

  
Over the next few days, Hux corresponds with Administrator Lyn through holos, working out the details of their plans concerning Jol-Ra. Cyna comes back with report after report, sends out forms and requests to Finance, and generally impresses her boss with her resourcefulness and wit. Captain Phasma keeps Hux up to date on the growing unrest planetside, her troopers doing their best to stifle any would-be violent threat. Hux knows it's only a matter of time before the locals decide to arm themselves and finally rise up against the Order, or worse—side with the Resistance. The issue must be dealt with as soon as possible.

It feels like every piece of their plan falls into place at the same time. Lyn comes back with the wonderful news that Jol-Ra has a very sick mother in hospital undergoing very expensive medical treatment, and a few hours later, Cyna is handing him the approval from the Finance Department. Hux instructs Lyn to communicate with the hospital to discreetly work out just how much Jol-Ra’s mother’s bill will amount to. As this is a delicate matter, one that must not reach the eyes and ears of other First Order-controlled planets lest they get any ideas, it must not leave a paper trail. So the funds requested are officially for the building of three new weapons, only two of which will actually get made.

The meeting is set the following day. Hux instructs Lyn to have her people pick up Jol-Ra early at his home, when the ports are still closed, right before he leaves to visit his mother. He tells her to deliver him to a secure location Phasma has had one of her lieutenants on the ground scout for them where Hux will be waiting. Everything has been planned out so smoothly, that Hux actually feels generous. He calls Cyna into his office.

"How would you like to go on your first mission?"

Cyna's eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"Very much so, General," she says, unable to stop the smile stretching across her young face. Her voice is raspy and excited. "Anything you need, Sir."

"It's nothing so complicated, you will just accompany me and three, maybe four troopers to the meeting tomorrow. You get to hold a case full of credits."

Cyna's grey eyes light up at this. She has been integral to the planning of this mission, and Hux wants to reward her. He hasn't been the best boss these past two weeks, what with Ren's attitude upon his return making Hux short-tempered, and having virtually no prep time for his mission causing him to bark his orders and to snap his commands. He’s not entirely sure why he cares about being a good boss to Cyna, though. He suspects it’s that doe-eyed look and the slight lisp he hears with every _yes, Sir_ ’s and _very good, Sir_ ’s. They make her seem like a tall, extremely competent child, and well, Hux had really wanted a little sister when he was a boy.

“I won’t let you down, Sir,” came Cyna’s delighted reply, snapping her heels to attention and straightening her back even more.

“Yes, do make sure you don’t drop the case,” Hux jokes. 

By the look of horror on Cyna’s face, and her stammered, _”Sir, I would never–“_ , Hux needs to work on his comedic timing.

“That was a joke, Cy–“ Hux says, shaking his head in amusement. “Never mind. Wear civilian clothes tomorrow. That’s all.”

“Thank you, Sir.” After her usual perfect salute, she exits Hux’s office and returns to her desk.

Hux forgoes his usual drinks at the bar with Phasma and the officers tonight, knowing he needs to be up and alert by 0330 tomorrow for the mission. Instead he excuses himself after dinner and heads for the medbay, presenting a slip of paper to the medical droid who greets him. On the paper is a written prescription for doze tablets. He’d procured it from Dr. Arias when Ren had left for his training, but had never actually filled it. 

He’s never liked taking any form of medication that might impair his efficiency, but it cannot be helped tonight. In order to ensure his mission is a success, Hux must not appear weak or distracted. He will be representing the First Order tomorrow, and it is imperative that the rebel sees him both as a potential ally, as well as a commanding figure.

Long story short, he needs to be well-rested and not creaking at the joints tomorrow.

He takes two tablets as instructed as soon as he gets to his quarters, making sure to set the alarm on his bedside table for 0315. He goes through his old routine of undressing and folding his pants, tunic, undergarments, and socks neatly before putting them inside the clothes hamper, then going to the refresher to clean himself up before bed. 

He’s brushing his teeth when he starts to feel the effects of the drug—just a slight blurring at the edge of his vision. He blinks heavily a few times as he rinses his mouth. He suddenly has this uncanny feeling that his mouth is not attached to his face, but he shakes his head at the notion. Stepping out of the refresher, he brings one hand up to his lower lip, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger.

“Yep,” he mutters through his fingers. “Definitely still there.”

The numbers projected on the wall of his den should read 2130, or some time around that. He knows this, and yet the light blue lines on the wall make no sense. They seem to have grown a mind of their own and are dancing about the walls. He stumbles to his bedroom, ignoring the swimming creatures that seem to fly out of the access pad by his front door. He supposes this is an effect of the drug, his unaccustomed body presenting him with hallucinations in reaction to the chemicals currently swirling around in his system.

So when he rolls over on his bed after what seems like mere seconds and finds Kylo Ren’s dark looming figure standing by the entrance to his bedroom, he sighs and smiles, knowing he is either hallucinating or dreaming.

“Ren,” he mumbles, running a heavy hand over his face. “I’ve missed you a lot.”

The figure walks inside the room, removing his helmet and placing it on top of Hux’s chest of drawers. Kylo Ren’s face in his hallucination-slash-dream looks softer, fuzzy at the usually sharp edges, his moles dancing around the planes of his pale cheeks. Hux reaches out a long pale finger when Ren sits next to him on the bed, pokes one of the moles and giggles when it scampers away to hide behind Ren’s massive nose. He lets his finger trail down to those pillowy soft lips, sighs then _sobs_ at the velvety smoothness of its texture.

The illusion-Ren wraps long fingers around Hux’s wrist, eyes closing as soft kisses are pressed against his palm. He inhales deeply, his nose skimming the delicate skin over Hux’s wrist.

_I’ve missed you, too._

Hux isn’t exactly sure whether he hears that out loud or just in his head, either way, his hallucinations are doing a damn fine job mimicking Ren’s tone.

_I don’t know what to do, Hux. Please, I need you to tell me what to do._

“Ssshhh,” Hux murmurs, even as tears fall from his eyes. Those, he’s sure, are not hallucinations. His body aches to touch the actual Ren like this again, to see his face once more, to hear his name whispered from those lips. In the privacy of his own room, of his own head, he allows himself the freedom to give in to his body’s whims. “Come here.”

The figure curls himself against Hux’s side, wrapping a thick arm around Hux’s waist. When the illusion buries his face against Hux’s neck, it’s wet with tears, too.

“You can’t ask me that, Ren,” Hux slurs, his hands roaming all over the body next to him. Briefly, he wonders if this is considered inappropriate, wonders if it’s still molestation if the body is only in his mind. He takes a deep breath as he lays one hand over imaginary-Ren’s chest. “You must make your own decisions. You used to always tell me that I do not command you, remember?”

_That was before…_

“Before what?” Hux pulls Ren’s chin up, looking into the dark pools that seem to pulse with the entire room. He can’t help it, not when Ren feels so solid in his arms, not when this illusion smells as good as the real one. He closes his eyes before pressing a soft kiss against the side of Ren’s mouth. More tears spill from the corners of his eyes when Ren turns his head slightly to catch his lips. He supposes his memories are working side-by-side with his hallucinations, because this Ren’s kisses are as good as the real one’s. They reach into the empty holes and spaces inside him, fills them in until they’re too full, until the ache throbs in his chest.

It hurts too much now, and Hux has to pull back as a sob escapes, vibrating from Ren’s lips and back against his.

“I need to sleep now, Ren. I need to finish my mission tomorrow.”

_I know. So do I._

Hux drifts back to sleep and doesn’t dream again. When his alarm wakes him up a few hours later, he doesn’t remember how he got from the refresher to his bed. He also doesn’t know why his face is sticky with dried up tears.

* * *

  
The sky outside the nondescript windows of the dilapidated building is a dark purple. Hux, wearing a crisp white collared shirt tucked into a pair of black pinstriped trousers and black leather boots, is sitting on an uncomfortable chair, his face stoic and betraying nothing. Behind him stands Cyna, dressed in a dark jacket, a black and white striped shirt tucked into a pair of grey trousers, and a pair of black flat shoes. Her big grey eyes are concealed by dark tinted glasses. She holds the briefcase of credits in front of her, both hands clutching the silver handle tightly. Hux wants to tell her to relax, but he doesn’t want to break eye contact with the man sitting in front of him.

Jol-Ra’s appearance is not what Hux expected at all. The man in front of him is short with dark hair thinning at the top, light brown skin, squinty eyes, an unremarkable nose and a weak chin. Though his overalls don’t exactly look brand new, they are clean and well-pressed. His thick boots are scuffed, but not too dirty.

“I assume you know who I am,” Hux says after sitting quietly long enough for beads of sweat to from on Jol-Ra’s brow.

“Y-you’re Ge-general Huc…Hux,” Jol-Ra stutters.

Hux suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. How can this man be the instigator who’s causing Lyn so much trouble?

“And I suppose you know why we’re here.”

“N-not really, n-no.” 

Every word that escapes that quibbling mouth is uncertain. How can this mess of a man inspire anyone to action? Hux has half a mind to call off the whole thing, to call this man’s bluff and see just how many people he can convince to go against the Order.

“No? Are you not Jol-Ra, the dockworker who’s been screeching on top of a soapbox, calling for his countrymen to rise up against the First Order?”

The man blanches even more, his mouth opening and closing several times as he attempts to answer. When the only sound that escapes his throat is a small squeak, he chooses to just nod his head, his eyes darting around the room, no doubt in search of potential exits.

“I’m going to make this brief,” Hux says, uncrossing his legs and sitting up in his chair. He gestures over his shoulder to Cyna, who comes over to stand on his right side. “The First Order knows everything, _sees_ everything. Tell me, how is your mother doing?”

This is the only time Jol-Ra’s expression changes. His brow furrows as he glares up at Hux. “You leave my mother out of this,” he says through gritted teeth.

Hux raises his eyebrows, and that is enough to cause Jol-Ra’s hard look to falter. Hux wants to scoff, now even more offended at having to personally meet with this man. Cyna could have intimidated this man into compliance, hell, even Mitaka probably could have.

“There’s no need for any of that,” Hux says, waving his hand dismissively. He looks away from Jol-Ra to nod at Cyna, who opens the case.

Jol-Ra’s small eyes widen greedily at the amount of credit chips presented before him. Hux regrets bringing so much with them; he’s pretty sure Jol-Ra would have settled for a third of this.

“Your mother is in hospital, yes?” Hux waits for Jol-Ra to nod before continuing. “This case has more than enough to pay for her medication, and you will have plenty left to ensure she lives a very comfortable life once she’s all better.”

Jol-Ra doesn’t even look away from the case as he answers. “Okay. What do you want?”

Less than ten minutes later, Hux and Cyna, accompanied by three stormtroopers, are back in their speeder. The mission, having gone so smoothly and easily, has left them with more than an hour before their shuttle comes back for them. They’re now on their way to the merchant market, after receiving detailed instructions from Administrator Lyn’s assistant as to where one might procure certain rare bottles of alcohol.

“I’m sorry your first mission wasn’t as exciting as you’d hoped,” Hux says, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows as he follows Cyna into a small alley. He’d instructed the troopers to stay in the speeder, not wanting to draw any attention to himself and his assistant. Wearing civilian clothing would have been pointless if they had blaster-toting stormtroopers following them around.

“That’s quite all right, Sir,” Cyna answers, looking down at her data pad as she reads the directions to find the underground stalls. She looks down a flight of narrow stairs to their right, consulting her pad once more, before descending. “This way, Sir.”

To the left of the bottom of the stairs, there is a small steel door with no doorknob. Cyna puts her pad back inside the grey leather satchel slung over her shoulder before knocking slowly three times, two times fast, then three times slowly again. A small window about halfway up the door slides open, a long pink snout snaking out and sniffing at their legs.

“What you want?” The small demanding voice has a thick accent that makes it hard to understand.

Before Hux can respond, Cyna bends her knees and talks in a language he can’t understand. It’s clipped with short syllables, but her raspy voice softens it so much more than the pink snout’s owner’s response. The snout retreats, the window closes, and the door opens.

Cyna straightens up, smiling at Hux and extending her arm to the side. 

“Impressive,” Hux says, nodding at her pleased expression as he walks past her.

The little pink creature slams the door and pushes on their legs with four small hoofed hands, talking quickly and irritably while Cyna bats it away. She says something that stops the creature short, looking up at them with round yellow eyes and a gaping mouth.

“What did you just say?” Hux asks, walking away from the creature, his arm wrapped loosely around Cyna’s arm.

“I’d rather not repeat it in front of my boss, Sir,” Cyna replies, her cheeks turning pink.

Hux chuckles before looking around the busy room. All around them are various species behind numerous stalls selling questionable items and wares. He hears Cyna gasp next to him, and he follows the direction of her gaze to a stall selling the shrunken heads of different creatures.

“We are off duty, Cyna, and in civilian clothing” Hux mutters as they start walking between the stalls. “You should feel free to buy whatever you want.” When he senses Cyna’s apprehension, he asks, “Would you like to split up?”

He looks down and finds Cyna chewing on the skin around the fingernail of her thumb, her eyes still trained at the shrunken head stall. He pushes her hand away from her mouth and smiles when she looks up at him.

“You must not appear unsure in places like this. Go get your tiny heads. We’ll meet at that bar in twenty minutes,” Hux instructs, pointing to the bar at the center of the massive room. He doesn’t wait for Cyna to respond, walking in the opposite direction of her intended stall, in search of alcohol. 

When he’s haggled his way to four bottles of wine and whiskey, one of which was a popular brand at Hosnian Prime, he goes to find Cyna at the bar. She’s sitting on a stool, back straight, bag looking fuller than it did twenty minutes ago. Hux settles himself on the stool next to hers, putting his bottles on the floor between them.

“Find anything good, Sir?” Cyna asks, looking down at the bag.

“As a matter of fact. You?”

Cyna blushes once again, but she nods her head and smiles at Hux.

“What do you say? Think we have time for a couple of drinks before we need to head back?”

“I think so,” Cyna says, consulting the chrono on her wrist.

Hux flags the bartender before turning to ask Cyna what she wants.

“Whatever you’re having, Sir.”

“Two glasses of Johrian whiskey, please,” Hux says, holding up two of his fingers. “Neat.”

They clink their glasses before each taking a sip. Hux is filled with nostalgia once the liquid hits his tongue, memories of nights spent wrapped around Ren flooding his mind. Thankfully, he’s spared from dwelling on those memories by the sight of Cyna downing her drink in one long gulp. She scrunches up her face, smacking her lips together and shaking her head.

“That’s not my drink,” she says, placing her glass on the bar and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she continues to shake her head. “It’s not my favorite, but thank you.”

Hux laughs as he takes another sip of his drink. “What’s your drink, then?”

Cyna bites her lip and looks away, before answering. “Mist-cocktail.”

“You should have said.” Hux flags down the bartender again and orders her drink. It’s when Cyna lifts her new glass to him that he first senses something. He turns to the mirror behind the bar, eyes darting from one end to the other, surreptitiously observing their surroundings. Cyna starts talking next to him, but he pays her no mind.

There, behind a barrel a couple of stalls back, a man dressed in a dark jacket and blue trousers. Despite the cap pulled low over his eyes, Hux can tell the man is watching them closely. He turns his attention to another part of the mirror, sees two men sitting by a table in front of a food stall. They would have easily blended in had they not let the Neuvian sundae they were supposedly sharing melt between them. Hux catches movement through the corner of his eye, a man somewhere behind Cyna and much closer to the bar than any of the others, walking towards them purposefully and reaching into his coat.

Hux finishes his drink wordlessly, his other hand taking Cyna’s glass and placing it calmly on the bar. He ignores Cyna’s questioning look, his eyes catching the approaching man’s as Hux grabs her by the back of her neck.

“I have a blade tucked in my boot,” he whispers, before pulling Cyna down and bolting from his seat. He hears her start to ask something in a panicked voice as she drops to the floor. Hux has no time to explain, the blaster now out of the man’s coat, as he winds his hand back over his shoulder before throwing his empty glass. It hits the man right in the face, causing him to drop his blaster and stumble back, grabbing his head.

The bar behind him explodes, and he looks over his shoulder as people start screaming to find the man with the cap pointing a blaster in his direction.

“Grab my knife, Cyna!” He screams, reaching behind the bar for the bartender’s kitchen knife. Once he feels Cyna taking the weapon from his boot, he takes a step forward and throws the knife at the man, slicing the side of his neck. By now, most of the people around the bar and the surrounding stalls have scattered, making it easier for Hux to spot those after him. There are a lot more than he’d initially thought.

He bends down and dodges another blaster shot, grabbing one of his bottles by the neck and smashing it against the bar. Deep red liquid explodes from the jagged edges of the bottle just as Cyna gets to her feet. She’s clutching Hux’s knife in one hand, the other pushing Hux behind her. She doesn’t seem to realize that she’s barely tall enough to reach Hux’s chest.

“Get behind me, Sir,” she yells, before stepping forward to meet the man in the cap. She dodges his wild punch, her free hand grabbing the bleeding wound on his neck and causing him to cry out in pain. She stabs him through the ribs twice, hugging his lifeless body to her small frame and using it as a shield against blaster fire from the others.

Hux ignores her command, ducking when someone tries to grab his neck and pushing the bottom of his bottle through the man’s eyes. He kicks the man’s flailing body to the ground, and dives for the blaster that the first man dropped. He’s surprised to find it set to stun.

 _So they’re here to capture, not kill,_ he thinks as he flicks the blaster’s setting to kill. He shoots the woman currently firing at Cyna from his spot on the floor, giving her enough time to drop the body she’s been using as a shield and flip a table in front of her instead.

Hux gets up and tosses Cyna the blaster before jumping over the bar and dropping on all fours behind it. He looks around him and finds the unconscious bartender slumped on the floor. In his hand is a medium-sized kitchen torch, and tucked against his ankle is a small pistol. It’s practically kismet.

“Cyna,” he calls as he reaches for the torch and pistol.

“Sir?”

“Cover me,” he commands right before getting up from the floor. In front of the bar, Cyna’s elbows are propped on top of the upturned table, exchanging fire with several attackers. Hux tosses the blowtorch towards a cluster of them with his left hand, waiting as many of the attackers watch in stunned silence. Only two of them are quick enough to realize what is happening, and they try to dive away from the torch flying through the air. They’re not fast enough, however, and Hux takes his shot with no hesitation.

The torch explodes, setting five attackers on fire. Hux smiles as they scream in agony, running around like headless Endorian chickens. He turns around when he hears something snap behind him, but it’s too late.

 _“General!–“_ He hears Cyna yell before he’s hit across the face with a wooden club and he loses consciousness.

* * *

  
It’s the pain that wakes him. A throbbing pain on the left side of his head. A sharp one on his right arm. A chafing one around his wrists. He blinks his eyes open and squints at the brightness. Something wet is oozing down the side of his face, and he’s finding it difficult to breathe through his nose. He tries to open his mouth and almost passes out again. Judging by the pain, his jaw must be dislocated.

He takes in his surroundings, stubbornly ignoring the nearly incapacitating pain in his head. He seems to be in some kind of transport, but from what he can see through the windows, he’s nowhere near Port Price. He gets the sense that the vehicle is climbing up a hill or a mountain, and they pass several golden tree trunks surrounded by tall cream-colored grass. He definitely doesn’t know where he is, so he focuses his attention to the inside of the shuttle.

To his left, one man is driving, talking in another language he doesn’t understand. The man next to the driver is bruised and bleeding, but otherwise okay. In front of Hux, a broad-shouldered woman with strong-looking legs sits glaring at him. Her knuckles are bloodied, Hux notes, as he looks at the wooden club she’s clutching over her knees.

 _Ren,_ he thinks, closing his eyes and projecting his thoughts as far as he can. He pictures everything his seen as vividly as he can, hoping that somehow, the knight can find him. Hux doesn’t know much about the force, doesn’t know how far Ren would be able to sense him or hear his thoughts.

He doesn’t even know if Ren would be looking for him.

The transport stops and Hux is yanked from his seat by the tall woman. They’re parked in front of a cream-colored rectangular building, a citadel of some sort. He looks up at the imposing structure as his other arm is grabbed roughly by the bleeding man. His legs hurt, his knees are weak, and his captors practically have to drag him forward. He passes out again shortly after they enter the building.

When he comes to, they’re in front of a set of heavy-looking doors with intricate patterns carved into the wood. The woman pushes it open and Hux lets them drag him forward. The room is spacious, with tall windows that light it up on two sides. There is a throne atop a dais, black and red and imposing. Sitting on it is an attractive if sinister-looking man, wearing a high-collared tunic, black trousers that hug his long legs, tall black boots, and a cape. _A cape._ Hux, delirious in his pain, thinks he’d like to wear a cape, too.

There is a tall dark figure standing at the bottom of the stairs in front of the throne. Even through the haze in his head, Hux can recognize the slump of those broad shoulders.

“Supreme Leader,” the woman next to him calls out.

Hux can’t find it in himself to be surprised that the man on the throne is Snoke. He suspected as much once he spotted Ren looking up at the dais.

Snoke turns his head to regard the woman, lip sneering in distaste before his eyes drift towards Hux. The sneer turns into a wide smile that turns Hux’s stomach to ice.

“General,” Snoke greets him.

Hux’s head lolls to the side, breathing in sharp, painful gasps. The figure in front of Snoke finally turns around, and Hux thinks one of his ribs must be piercing his heart.

Ren is wearing his new mask, that doesn’t surprise him. There is something about his hunched shoulders, however, about his clenched fist and the way his right hand grips the lightsaber clipped to his belt, that sends a shock of pain through Hux that has nothing to do with his injuries.

The hands holding his arms release him as the looming figure of Kylo Ren stomps towards them. He can barely hold himself upright, his lost so much blood, and his knees buckle under him when one of his captors shoves him to the ground. He lands hard on his knees, braising himself on the floor with his bound hands.

He looks up at the sound of a lightsaber buzzing to life just in time to see Ren standing over him. He closes his eyes, not out of fear, but out of acceptance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hux's experience with doze tablets are based on my own experience with Ambien. My body was a pure vessel of innocence when I first took Ambien, and oh! What wonderful hallucinations they gave me. Dancing numbers, trains outside my bedroom window, and tiny cartoon animals flying out of lights. Sadly, no Kylo Ren illusions. :(
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://the-fluff-awakens.tumblr.com).


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo Ren has a life-altering choice to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not a doctor, nor have I ever broken any bone in my body. Please keep this in mind as you read this chapter. Hahaha!

   
   
   


_Ren._

Hux is distressed, Ren notes, right before he is bombarded with flashing images of the familiar route up to Snoke’s citadel. The knight feels all this—from the call to the desperation in informing Ren of his current location—somewhere in that space in his chest where Hux’s pain had reached out and planted itself all those months ago. Along with these, he feels the general’s physical pain from the many injuries he’s managed to sustain.

Behind his mask, his face is a study in impassiveness, betraying none of this. The hand resting on his lightsaber twitches, his mind now flooded with images of driving the red plasma blade through Hux’s chest. He thinks he will dispose of his lightsaber after, finally part with the defective weapon. He’s long needed a new one, anyway. The excuse sounds lame even in his head.

Above him, Snoke watches him intensely, elbow on top of the arm of his throne, middle and forefinger resting on his temple, thumb cradling his jaw. The scene in his mind changes. Hux is now floating in midair, struggling against a phantom hand clutching his throat. Ren stands in front of him, watching the light dwindle from those eyes—blue eyes filled with panic and betrayal looking down at him. He doesn’t so much as see Snoke’s lazy smile, but feels it in the Force. It’s a dark, malevolent thing, curling around him like the cold embrace of his Master.

The image in his head changes once more, to that of Hux’s crumpled form on the ground in front of his feet, a growing pool of his blood soaking Ren’s boots. Blood drips from the heart in Ren’s hand, and he thinks, _There, General. Your pain is gone._

“Any of those methods will do, really,” Snoke says from his throne. He sounds almost bored, like he’s ready to be done with all this. “I’m sure you’ve thought about the many different ways to do it for a long time now.”

The doors to the chamber open, and two sets of feet stomp in while a third is forcefully dragged between them. The general’s captors are not uninjured, and Ren almost smiles at that. He never once pictured Hux taking being captured lying down.

“Supreme Leader!”

The woman’s voice is a deep loud rumble, demanding his Master’s attention rather than requesting it. Ren feels Snoke bristling with anger, but it’s quelled quickly by the sight of Hux next to her, bruised and bleeding and needing to be held up.

“General,” Snoke trills, his smile nearly splitting his jaw from the rest of his face.

Ren turns from his spot, his eyes finding Hux’s immediately. His body is a mess, Ren sees it as well as senses it in the Force. His nose and jaw are dislocated, one shoulder popped from its socket, and most of his flesh cut up from being dragged through broken glass and shattered wood. He’s lost enough blood and is in so much pain that Ren feels Snoke’s surprise at his ability to even be conscious right now.

He walks towards the small group by the door, one hand clasped over his lightsaber, the other clenched in a fist. 

_Saber or the Force?_

Hux’s arms are released, and he is pushed to the ground. Ren fights against the tug that the sight of Hux falling causes to his own body, unclipping his lightsaber from his belt instead.

Ren’s attention drifts to Hux’s captors. The man on his right is short but stocky, covered in bruises and superficial cuts. He holds on to the blaster hanging from his belt, but wisely chooses not to draw it. Not just a brute, then.

Ren powers on his lightsaber, sensing Hux gazing up at his mask before closing his eyes in surrender.

To Hux’s left is a tall, broad and heavily-muscled woman holding a wooden club. She’s proud of having been the one to finally capture Hux, her club having delivered the blow that broke much of Hux’s face.

Ren cuts off her head first with a swift wide arcing of his saber.

He drives the blade through the man’s stomach next, projecting a Force shield around himself and Hux just in time to ward off Snoke’s attack. His master’s attempt to choke Hux strain against the invisible barrier, and Ren grits his teeth as he turns around to face him, planting his feet firmly on the ground. Hux is only now realizing what has happened, and Ren does not allow himself to dwell on the pain he feels at Hux’s genuine confusion. _He honestly thought…?_

“I thought I sensed something amiss,” Snoke drawls, getting up from his throne and climbing down the steps of the dais. “You masked it well. I’m actually quite impressed.”

Ren doesn’t bother to explain how easy it actually was once he’d made his decision last night, when Hux held him in his arms and cried into their first kiss in months. That little seed that’s taken root in his chest, that place he’d gone to with Hux on their final night before he’d left for Eldion, they keep him connected to Hux in a way he’s never been connected to anything or anyone else before, not even his Master. It was easy to think of deciding to kill Hux, to vividly imagine killing him, because in his heart, in that place, he knew the truth.

He can no more hurt Hux than he can completely rid himself of the Light.

“Such a disappointment,” Snoke says, shaking his head. He pushes his cape aside and reaches for the lightsaber clipped to his belt. It buzzes to life, the long, curved plasma blade a deep red, darker and more stable than Ren’s own. “Finding someone else as powerful with the Force as you are and training them will prove difficult and tiresome, but I can be patient.”

He stops in the middle of the room, cocking his head to the side and looking down at Hux, whose projecting anger stronger than he’s ever done before. It’s laced with a fierce protectiveness over Ren that, for the time being, manages to overpower the almost all-consuming pain his body is suffering.

 _Don’t do anything stupid,_ Ren projects into his mind before stepping out of the Force shield he’s created around them.

“Oh please, General,” Snoke says imploringly. “Do.”

Ren walks the short distance to the center of the room, twirling the weapon in his hand. He thinks about sending a Force punch to throw off Snoke before swinging his lightsaber, but Snoke intercepts it just the same.

“Come now, _Master of the Knights of Ren._ Fool me once,” Snoke says right before sending a strong wall of Force with his free hand. It hits Ren’s chest, cracking a couple of ribs and knocking him back a few paces.

He bends at the waist as Snoke’s blade whizzes through the air, grazing his abdomen. The pain of his flesh being cauterized is nothing new, but Ren winces as he takes a step forward and spins on his feet, saber arm extended. The tip of his blade catches Snoke’s left arm, and, with his back to Snoke, he brings his weapon around his left side to thrust it back. Snoke’s blade once again catches the blow, and, using both hands, he lifts both blades up. Ren moves his arm out of the way just in time, turning to face Snoke again. 

This close, no self-respecting helmet-wearing combatant would pass up the chance at a good head butt. He brings his head down hard against Snoke’s forehead, smiling at the sound of heavy metal hitting flesh and bone.

Stumbling backward, Snoke roars angrily. He charges at Ren, a thin trickle of blood oozing down his forehead, swinging his lightsaber this way and that. Ren barely manages to parry each swing with his weapon, stepping backward and away from Snoke.

Ren stumbles on his feet, a miniscule misstep he quickly corrects, but it’s all Snoke needs. He swings his saber hand, catching Ren’s left leg with the weapon, as he makes a sweeping gesture with his free arm, and Ren is knocked down on the floor by the Force, landing hard on his tailbone. Snoke advances, both arms raised, and Ren only just rolls out of the way. The saber hits the ground hard, cracking and singeing it.

Ren twists up on his knees then his feet, gritting his teeth against the pain on his leg, stomach and ribs, both hands around the hilt of his lightsaber. He smirks defiantly as Snoke turns around to face him, weapon pointed to the ground, free hand swinging up towards Ren’s face. Ren steps forward, bending at the waist to avoid the Force hit, and twirls around, swinging his lightsaber with his left hand towards Snoke.

They’re getting uncomfortably close to Hux, so Ren herds Snoke away, alternating between swinging his lightsaber and sending Force blasts that Snoke manages to deflect each time. It works well enough for Ren’s intended purpose, and, weapons clashing against each other, they’re soon headed towards the opposite direction from Hux. 

Hux, who is currently watching all this in horror. Who, Ren realizes in panic, is suddenly clutching a blaster in his hand. Who will blow himself up if he fires that blaster inside the Force shield. 

" _Hux, n–_ " 

Snoke’s Force punch hits Ren square in the jaw, knocking him down to the ground, his vision blacking out for a moment. He hears an anguished sound coming from Hux, and head still reeling, Ren flicks his hand towards its direction to lower the Force shield just in time. Hux takes a shot, and it would have been a good one—the bolt would have hit Snoke in the chest, as his hands are raised over his head, ready to bring his blade down on Ren.

But Snoke lowers one hand to deflect the bolt, and its trajectory changes midair, hitting the throne behind them. Ren scrambles to get the shield back up, but Snoke is faster. In the blink of an eye, Hux’s battered body is sailing backwards, hitting the side of the open door. The sickening sound of his skull cracking against the thick and solid wood is what finally does it.

Something inside Ren snaps, the Force almost solidifying as it explodes from his body. His rage, his pain—everything he’s stored up after Han, after Yan and Jin, after Jago—tremble out of him. Not again. _Not Hux._

Snoke stumbles backwards, eyes widening at the power surging from Ren’s body right now. What he fails to understand, Ren realizes, is that his attachments make him stronger. One draws so much more power from the pain of losing a loved one.

“Enough,” Ren says, rising from the ground. Snoke raises his lightsaber again just as Ren raises his hand. He feels the Force like thick ribbons shooting out of his fingers, and he maneuvers them inside the hilt of Snoke’s weapon, wrapping around the synthetic crystal. It takes less than a second to overheat and explode. Snoke lands on the steps leading to his destroyed throne, half of his face burnt, half of his arm gone.

“Such a disappointment,” Ren says flatly.

The last image he sees is Ren’s mask, looming over him, before Ren’s blade pierces his heart.

Ren removes his helmet, glaring down at the dead body of his old Master. He tosses the helmet next to him. He turns around and heads for the chamber’s entrance where Hux’s body lays crumpled. Reaching out with the Force, his heart finally calms a little when he feels Hux’s faint heartbeat.

Further Force examination tells him moving Hux won’t cause any more damage to his body, so he gets on his knees next to him and turns him on his back. He means to pop Hux’s shoulder back in place, but the general has already done that on his own apparently.

He guides the Force from his fingers like ribbons once more, this time drawing not from his pain or anger, but from his love for this small, broken man, and he uses it to stitch him back as best he can. First, he uses the Force to perform chest compressions and push air into his lungs. He does this until he senses Hux’s heart stabilizing, ensuring that blood flow to his brain is uninterrupted. It won’t do to fix the general’s body only to have his brilliant mind permanently damaged. Then, still regulating Hux’s breathing with the Force, he moves to the head injury, ripping off his cowl and using it to staunch the bleeding. And then, trying to be as gentle with the Force as he can, he manipulates Hux’s jaw back into position, flinching when Hux groans in pain. He doesn’t need the Force to fix the nose, just his own fingers. He’s done this to himself numerous times, and it’s not as serious as Hux’s other injuries. It’s just a quick and easy realignment.

Hux still needs to spend time in a bacta tank, but for now, this will do.

* * *

  
Ren walks out of the chamber carrying Hux in his arms. He feels smaller somehow, lighter than before, and Ren pulls him closer to his chest, resting his cheek against Hux’s bandaged forehead. 

They’re met by Captain Phasma and several other stormtroopers.

“General,” Phasma says apprehensively, before looking at Ren. “Lord Ren, what happened?”

“He needs medical attention, is Arias with you?”

“N-no, Sir. But the Finalizer is within orbit.”

“Good,” he says walking past Phasma. “Follow me to my shuttle.”

“Yes, Sir,” Phasma says before turning to the trooper right behind her. “You take the shuttle back to the Finalizer.”

They pass several dead bodies on their way out, and Ren looks pointedly at Phasma.

“We learned about the General’s abduction from Cyna, and we followed his tracker here,” Phasma explains, stepping over dead bodies. “Where is Snoke?”

The captain sounds angry, almost spitting out the name. Despite his previous teasing, Ren has always known that Hux’s officers are all loyal to him. There’s something to be said about inspiring loyalty, rather than demanding it. Yet another thing Snoke failed to understand.

“Snoke is dead.”

“Good.”

And nothing more is said until they reach Ren’s shuttle. Phasma heads for the cockpit as Ren turns to the passenger compartment, setting Hux gently down on the small cot. It doesn’t take them long to reach the Finalizer, and as soon as the shuttle’s ramp is lowered, a medical team dragging a gurney rushes in to bring Hux to the medbay, Ren in close pursuit.

Someone has obviously called ahead to the medbay because they seem to be prepared to deal with Hux’s injuries straight away. As soon as they walk through the doors, Sigrid is ordering the med team that fetched Hux to put him on the steel cot in the middle of the room, while several medical droids are already shuffling about, prepping tools and hooking up machinery. Ren watches as Sigrid divests Hux of his tunic and undershirt in one smooth stroke of his scissors.

“Where is Arias?” Ren demands, standing on the other side of the cot.

“In her quarters,” Sigrid answers, not looking up from his ministrations on Hux’s body. “She isn’t on duty, but I’ve already sent for her.”

“Perhaps we should wait…”

“With all due respect, Sir,” Sigrid snaps, finally looking up at Ren. There’s a determined look in his eyes that Ren has never seen there before. “I am perfectly capable of tending to the General’s injuries until Dr. Arias arrives. If you would be so kind as to give me some space so I can administer the necessary treatment.”

Ren raises one eyebrow but does as asked, stepping back until he’s standing in one corner so that he’s close enough to observe but isn’t in anyone’s way.

“ _Thank_ you,” Sigrid almost spits out, turning back to Hux’s body. “MD230, get working on that respirator.”

A silver and red medical droid takes the spot Ren has just vacated and pulls on Hux’s chin before fitting a device over his mouth and nose. The droid turns to a machine next to the bed, flipping a switch to turn it on. Part of the device slinks into Hux’s mouth and down his trachea, and a steady hum fills the room as the machine frees up his airway.

“There’s bruising on his jaw, and his nose is swollen, but I can’t detect any dislocation,” Sigrid mutters, his fingers trailing over Hux’s face.

“I relocated them,” Ren offers sheepishly. He’s afraid he’s done more damage than any good, but he’s sure he’d feel it if that were the case.

“Good job,” Sigrid says, sounding impressed.

“He also dislocated his shoulder, but he dealt with that on his own. I think the head injury is the most pressing right now.”

Sigrid unwinds the cowl wrapped around Hux’s head, reaching under just as Dr. Arias walks into the room. She’s wearing a robe over her pajamas, but she walks to the sink with confidence and washes her hands, already barking orders.

She turns to Ren, her eyes raking up and down his body, and Ren knows she can tell he’s in pain himself.

“MD290, attend to Lord Ren’s injuries.”

“I’m fine,” Ren starts, raising his arms to ward of the droid. The action causes a shock of pain to bloom on his side, making him wince. Now that he’s no longer focusing on using the Force to regulate Hux’s breathing, he’s finally feeling his own injuries.

“Lord Ren, please let the droid do its job,” Arias orders, not even looking up from where she’s examining Hux’s head injury.

* * *

  
Several hours later, the medbay is a lot quieter, with only a few medical droids milling about. Ren and Hux have been relocated to a room at the back, the former laid out on a cot after being given painkillers for his fractured ribs and patched up with bacta pads, the latter floating in a bacta tank next to the cot.

Ren stares at the tank, hating how most of Hux’s face is obscured by the necessary breathing apparatus, and tries to reach out with the Force to check on Hux’s brain activity, but the medicine is impairing his abilities. All he can detect is Hux’s steady heartbeat.

“I can’t believe you actually thought I would kill you,” he says, scrunching up his nose when he hears how slurred his words are. “For a genius, you’re so stupid, Hux.”

He looks up at the ceiling and doesn’t say anything for a while, just listens to the steady beeping of the machine hooked up to the tank.

“I killed a child, though. He made me do it, but that doesn’t make it any better. I killed his parents, too. Jago’s, not Snoke’s. Fuck, I don’t even know if Snoke _had_ parents. Maybe he just sprouted to life from an ugly little seed. Anyway, they were my friends, Jago’s parents were. Their names were Yan and Jin. Yan cooked the most amazing food, and Jin…talked to me like a person. He wasn’t scared of me, he didn’t want anything from me. He just trusted me enough to leave his family with me. His perfect wife, and his amazing little boy.”

Ren is startled to feel the tears streaming down his face, but he continues.

“Jago, man. Jago was hilarious. He had this raspy little voice, and this raspy little laugh. He copied everything I did. He slept on top of my chest for two months. They were the perfect family, Hux. You would have liked them. I wanted you to meet them. I thought you were going to meet them.”

He’s openly sobbing now, delirious from exhaustion and the painkillers. He swipes at the tears on his cheeks, growing frustrated when they’re just replaced by new ones.

“I killed my father, too. At Starkiller. I can’t even remember if I told you. I feel like I buried my grief in you, I’m sorry if I transferred any of it to you. I didn’t deal with it at all. Pushed it behind everything. But it happened, and that’s not going to change. I won’t be able to hide it behind anything. I almost let him take me home, you know? Looking into his face, he was so old, Hux, and when I was a kid, that was all I wanted. To have him look at me with kind, loving eyes. He always looked at me with fear. He thought he concealed it, but I felt it all the same. My mom was always better at it, maybe because she had at least some understanding of the Force. Not my dad. It terrified him. _I terrified him._ But not at Starkiller. At Starkiller, he looked at me like I was his little son, and nothing more. I almost chose the Light, Hux.”

He coughs out a laugh, clutching his side and shaking his head.

“I just realized if I’d gone with him, we never would have…I would never have learned to…”

He rolls his head to the side again, looking at Hux’s floating body. The tank makes him look bloated, but already the bruises along his jaw and nose have disappeared, and the cuts around his body are closing up.

“I’m sorry I was such a jerk after I came back. You have no idea how much I wanted to run into your arms as soon as I landed. I wanted to sob into your chest, I wanted to bury myself in you again. I was just so scared that Snoke would somehow find out about how I feel about you. That’s why he had me live with Jago’s family, you know? He wanted me to form an attachment to them, because he knew I failed my first real test. Killing my own father and feeling no remorse was my first test. I failed all his tests, Hux. I cried for Yan and Jin and Jago the same way I cried after watching my father’s body drop to the abyss. Fuck! I let his body just fall. It’s gone now, Hux!”

He’s working himself up again, and he pauses to calm his breathing.

“In the end, it didn’t matter that I stayed away from you. He wanted me to kill you for Starkiller. I didn’t understand why, that wasn’t even your fault, but Snoke is— _was_ a power-hungry, cruel, selfish man. I don’t know, maybe he feared you would one day overthrow him.”

And then suddenly, everything clicks into place inside his head.

“Holy shit, Hux! When you wake up, you have to take control of the First Order. That’s your…your _destiny!_ Shit, I’m going to help you, you’re going to become Emperor.”

The vision floods in all at once, Hux dressed in white, golden crown atop his ginger hair, sitting on a throne that puts Snoke’s to shame. Next to him, Ren in red and gold, on a throne of his own. Their chamber is vast, the windows tall and wide that open to so much green.

When he finally snaps out of his trance, he’s sitting up on his cot, breathing heavily. He turns to face Hux’s tank, and is startled to find Hux blinking confusedly at him.

Ren gets out of his cot, his smile growing wider as he places a hand over the glass of the tank. Hux twitches as if to say something, but stops and he lines his hand on the glass in front of Ren’s instead. His eyes roam Ren’s face, looking worried.

Ren remembers the tears, and dries his face on his sleeve as much as he can.

“Hux,” he whispers in relief, placing his forehead next to his hand against the cool glass and closing his eyes.

* * *

  
They take Hux out of the tank the following day. Arias had actually approved his release for the night, after only a few hours, but Ren insisted he spent a whole night dosed in bacta. He’s not planning on informing Hux about that.

Hux, who is currently sound asleep in his own bed, the bed he’s avoided ever since Ren left for Eldion because it felt too big. Because he didn’t like turning over and feeling the cold empty sheets instead of Ren’s warm chest. Because waking up on it alone just did not feel right after only a week spent waking up next to Ren.

Had it really been just a week? It felt a lot longer, like they’d been doing it their whole lives.

Ren can’t help but smile now, remembering how Hux had stayed by his bed when he’d been recovering. Their roles have been reversed, Hux on the bed in recovery, Ren on a chair, watching for any signs of discomfort. Hux is still groggy from the bacta, Ren reasons. His standing guard has absolutely nothing to do with Hux being abducted and hurt. It’s not like he’s going to stand watch over Hux for the rest of their lives. Like a knight watching over his king.

 _No. Just his emperor,_ he thinks, leaning over and fussing over Hux’s blanket.

“Ren?” Hux blinks up at him groggily. “What time is it?”

“Time for more sleep,” he answers, pushing against Hux’s shoulder when he tries to get up. “Arias says you need to rest.”

She didn’t, really. The bacta tank meant a quick and full recovery, but damn it, if anyone needed more sleep, it’s Hux.

“Have you been sitting there all night?” Hux doesn’t put up a fight, which surprises Ren. He lies back and snuggles deeper under the blanket.

“You did the same for me,” Ren says, sitting back on his chair. “Now go back to sleep.” He settles into his chair, resting his head on the back and closing his eyes.

“Don’t be absurd,” Hux grumbles from under the sheet. “Come to bed.”

Ren’s brow furrows before he opens his eyes. When he looks up, Hux is watching him apprehensively. His ribs _are_ being exceptionally bothersome today.

“Or are you still avoiding me?”

The corner of his mouth twitches before he kicks off his shoes and crawls into bed, being extra careful not to jostle Hux. He lies on top of the covers, on his back, his hands resting primly on his stomach.

“What’s the matter with you?” Hux asks, turning on his side and watching him. His face is incredibly close, and Ren has to concentrate really hard on the spotless ceiling.

“Nothing.”

“You’re being really weird.”

“Weird?”

“-er than normal.”

They stay like that for a while, Hux watching his profile, him watching the ceiling.

“You really thought I was going to kill you?” He doesn’t mean for his voice to sound so small.

Hux sighs heavily next to him, his breath tickling Ren’s neck.

“I honestly did not know. What I knew was that you were completely devoted to Snoke.”

“Not completely, no.” He finally turns his head to face Hux, a soft smile on his face.

“Apparently not,” Hux says, his words slurring a little.

Ren watches as Hux’s eyelids droop slowly before closing altogether, his furrowed brow smoothing over as he sighs heavily and slips back to unconsciousness.

“Sleep well, Emperor,” Ren whispers, still smiling, closing his own eyes and finally falling asleep.

   
   
   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whooo! Only one chapter left! I can't believe it. Chapter 10 will most probably just be a short epilogue of sorts.
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://the-fluff-awakens.tumblr.com).


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Hux wakes up, he is alone in bed and he feels as if he’d just slept through an entire week.
> 
> "Ren?"
> 
> No one answers, and he pretends not to be disappointed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap! I can't believe we've reached the end! I am both excited and apprehensive about this ending. I feel like a mother bird, watching her baby birb leave the nest.
> 
> So, here you go, world! Have this finished story.

   
   
   
When Hux wakes up, he is alone in bed and he feels as if he’d just slept through an entire week. There is none of the usual pain around his neck, back or limbs. His head does not feel heavy and full like it’s about to burst. The sheets pulled over his shoulders are soft and warm.

Rolling over on his back, he reaches for his comlink on the bedside table, checks his messages and finds his inbox empty. _Odd,_ he thinks, considering it’s 1100 already. Normally, he would have panicked at the late hour, would have bolted out of bed and dressed as fast as possible to get to the bridge, but today is different. It’s as if a soothing force is caressing the back of his mind, wordlessly reassuring him that all is as it should be.

And then he remembers. Snoke and Ren. Fighting in Snoke’s citadel.

 _Snoke is dead,_ he thinks, as if to reassure himself. He didn’t see it with his own eyes, but Ren says he is and that is enough.

Sitting up in bed, he stretches his arms over his head and arches his back, acutely aware of how his joints no longer crack the way they used to.

“Ren?”

No one answers, and he pretends not to be disappointed. 

He throws the covers off his body, gets up and makes the bed. He’s bent at the waist, looking closely at the sheets to make sure they’re neatly tucked around the corners, when he senses another presence in the room. 

Ren is standing in the doorway, watching him, a steaming mug in his hand. Hux doesn’t need to ask, one deep breath has him closing his eyes and smiling peacefully.

“Is that for me?” Hux asks, already headed for the doorway.

Ren smiles, and it’s soft and shy and unfamiliar to Hux. He’s barefoot, wearing his leather pants and a thin long-sleeved shirt. His hair is tied in a low bun with loose tendrils framing his face, and Hux wants to reach over and tuck them behind those enormous ears.

He accepts the mug when Ren offers it, brings it up to his nose and inhales before taking a sip.

“Good?” Ren’s voice is tentative, as if he’d never made caf for Hux before, as if he didn’t know how Hux liked it.

“Perfect,” Hux answers, drinking some more. “Why didn’t you wake me? I am beyond late for my shift. And there aren’t any reports in my inbox.”

Ren leads him to the kitchen where two trays of food are laid out on the counter, gesturing to one of the stools as he takes the other one across from it.

“I’ve put Captain Kilne in charge of the bridge while you’re in recovery,” Ren finally answers, digging into his lunch. “I’ve also ordered Phasma and your assistant to send all reports to Kilne.”

Hux sighs in relief at the mention of his assistant. He sets his mug down and starts on his steak.

“So Cyna made it,” he says, chewing thoughtfully. “I’m glad. I think a promotion is in order.”

“She fought with you bravely,” Ren agrees, nodding. “As well as informed the Finalizer of what happened.”

“I’ll be sorry to lose her, though. Lieutenant, you think? Or should I make her a captain?”

Ren shrugs as he drinks from his own mug of caf. “It’s up to you. You’re in charge of the Order now.”

“No, I’m not,” Hux says, brows furrowing as he looks back at Ren in confusion. “Am I?”

Ren smiles then, and it’s not at all like the shy one he’d worn earlier. He looks confident and sure, like he knows something Hux doesn’t.

“I’ve had a vision…”

* * *

  
Three days pass before Hux finally puts his foot down. He’s fully recovered and is going crazy being confined to his quarters. It isn’t at all like the week he’d spent with Ren before Eldion, which would have made things more bearable.

Ren has been staying at Hux’s quarters. He’s brought several sets of clothes with him, and has been showering in Hux’s refresher, eating his meals with him, sleeping on his bed. They are basically living together. And yet.

He hasn’t touched Hux besides the occasional brush of the hand to pass him something. He talks about ruling the First Order side by side, says he’s seen it in a vision, says they’ll each have a throne, a palace all their own. They will be just and effective rulers, he says, and their subjects will adore and respect them. Hux likes this vision. In his head, when Ren had first told him about it, it had been clear that they were married in the vision, sharing everything from their empire to their bed. As the days passed, however, it became less clear.

Last night, as they’d lain in bed, Hux had asked him again to tell him about the vision, and sure enough, Ren had made no mention of the nature of their relationship in this so-called future. Ren had stared at the ceiling as he’d talked, one hand tucked behind his head, the other drumming against his own stomach, looking happy and excited, and Hux had had to turn his head away to keep from kissing him.

“What are you doing?” Ren asks when he wakes up and catches Hux putting on his uniform. “Hux, it’s 0630. Come back to bed.” 

“I’m reporting for duty, Ren,” Hux says simply, keeping his eyes on the full-length mirror by his bedroom doorway as he buttons up his tunic. “You know as well as I do that I’m fully recovered. In fact, I should have gone back to work the day after we got back.”

Ren doesn’t say anything; he just lies there on his side, propped up on one elbow, hair a mess, eyes still bleary. His brow is furrowed as he continues watching Hux.

“So, I see no other reason for me to stay confined to my quarters,” Hux continues, running his hand over the front of his tunic to smooth out the nonexistent wrinkles. “Do you?” He tries his best to keep the hope out of his voice.

He looks at Ren’s reflection then, waiting for him to say… _Say what?_ He doesn’t know either. He wants to tell Ren that he no longer needs to watch over him, that he can go back to sleeping in his own quarters, on his own bed, but he’s afraid Ren will agree. When Ren says nothing, he turns to his sock drawer and selects a random pair. He sits on the corner of the bed to put them on, his back to Ren, resisting the urge to crawl to Ren’s side and tuck his body in those massive arms.

Taking a deep breath, he proceeds to put his boots on as he fights to keep his voice even. “I don’t need a minder anymore.”

“Oh?”

He’s sure he only imagines the disappointment in Ren’s voice. When he looks over his shoulder, Ren is staring at the mattress, as if Hux’s plain grey sheets are endlessly fascinating to him.

“I’m fully recovered,” Hux repeats, watching Ren’s face. “That is why you’ve been staying here, right?”

“Right,” Ren answers, only a second too late. He looks up at Hux and smiles a sad, toothless smile. “I’ll get out of your hair then.” Ren sits up and turns his back to him.

“I don’t mean now,” Hux hurries to explain, turning his body to follow Ren’s movements. “It’s still early, you should get more sleep.”

“That’s okay,” Ren mumbles, pulling his boots on and grabbing the bag of clothes that’s been sitting on the armchair by Hux’s bed for the past few days. “I should report for duty myself.”

And without even looking back at him, Ren walks out, leaving behind a silence that rings loudly in Hux’s ears.

Every personnel he passes on the way to the bridge greets Hux enthusiastically, and Captain Kilne seems only too happy to relinquish his post back to the general.

“Good to have you back, Sir,” Kilne says smiling, saluting Hux before exiting the bridge to return to his usual post at the port hangar control bridge.

He’s walking around the bridge, looking over people’s shoulders at their work, when Phasma, helmet tucked to her side, enters with Cyna, their heads bent close as they consulted the data pad in Cyna’s hand. They spot him at the same time, heads snapping up, hands flying to their foreheads, heels snapping.

“At ease,” Hux says, waving his hand and rolling his eyes at the big smiles on their faces. “Good to see that you’re up and about, Cyna.”

Cyna beams up at him, her free hand self-consciously picking at the small bandage on the side of her neck. “Same to you, Sir.”

“Lord Ren deem you well enough to go back to work, I see,” Phasma mumbles in his ear, smirking. Before Hux can refute whatever she’s insinuating, she pulls her helmet on and turns to leave. “I’ll see you both later.”

“Um, Sir?” 

Hux looks down at Cyna next to him. She’s clutching her data pad to her chest, biting her lip nervously and darting her eyes about the room.

“What is it, Cyna?”

She finally looks at him and takes a deep breath. “I’m so sorry for what happened at Port Price. I let them take you–“

Hux puts up his hand, stopping her speech abruptly. “You did no such thing. There is nothing to apologize for, Cyna,” Hux says. “You fought very bravely, went above and beyond to protect me.”

“But–“

“Don’t interrupt me,” Hux scolds lightly. “I would not have lasted as long as I did had you not been there. I would most probably have sustained more injuries, perhaps have even gotten killed.”

Cyna still looks like she wants to protest, her eyes wide and trembling with unshed tears. She nods her head quickly when Hux raises his eyebrows.

“You are not my bodyguard,” Hux reminds her. “You are my assistant. At least for the time being.”

Cyna’s face falls, her eyebrows rising in alarm. “Am I being fired, Sir?”

“Absolutely not,” Hux says, patting her shoulder reassuringly. “But you are getting promoted.”

Ren shows up at the bridge shortly after, going back to his usual quiet skulking in corners before Hux’s abduction. The only difference this time is the lack of a helmet. The crew grows visibly uncomfortable at his presence, even more so now that they can see his face, perhaps having grown somewhat accustomed to being watched by a featureless mask than actual human eyes. They need not have worried, however.

Without his mask to hide behind, Kylo Ren cannot disguise where his attentions lie. Hux’s every move is closely scrutinized, Ren’s eyes following him all over the bridge until he grows uncomfortable. When he’s finally had enough, he marches towards Ren’s corner with a stern look on his face.

“Can I do something for you, Ren?”

Ren is visibly startled, perhaps under the impression that he’s being subtle.

“N-no,” he says uncertainly. “I’m just here for my shift.”

“As what, my bodyguard?” Hux huffs, and crosses his arms. “If you have something to say, just say it.”

“I don’t,” Ren answers simply. He makes a show of turning his head and watching the bridge crew, who are all pretending not to watch their commanders.

At the mess hall, Hux has his meals with Phasma and Cyna, who apparently have gotten closer the last few days. Ren sits alone at the table next to theirs, and even though Hux faces away from him, he feels Ren’s eyes on his back. He grits his teeth through his mashed protato and sausages.

When Hux meets Phasma at the officer’s lounge later that night, Cyna is standing next to her. Hux, as usual, is still dressed in his uniform, but they’re both dressed casually, Phasma in a black tank, tight jeans and her favorite boots, Cyna in a short sleeved white blouse, loose trousers and flats. Cyna barely comes up to Phasma’s shoulders, but they look comfortable in each other’s presence.

“As much as I loved seeing you back at the bridge today,” Phasma starts as they take their seats by the bar, “I am most happy to have you back here. Your assistant is not much of a drinker, Sir, but I’m trying to train her.”

“She’s had me try vodka, tequila, and rum shots,” Cyna adds, proudly counting them off on her fingers.

“Not all at once, I hope,” Hux says, nodding at the bartender as their usual drinks are laid in front of them. “Tell me, ladies, has the good Lord Ren decided to grace us with his presence this evening?”

His companions look over his shoulder towards the lounge entrance at the same time, nodding their heads. Phasma’s mouth stretches slowly into a knowing smile.

“He’s just sat at the other end of the bar,” Cyna says helpfully.

“Of course he has,” Hux says, shaking his head. It’s the perfect spot to watch him from.

As the night progresses, and more drinks and shots are consumed, officers enter and leave the lounge at intervals, most of whom approach Hux to tell him how glad they are to see him back. Ren, however, stays seated on his stool, hunched over the drink he’s been nursing the whole night. Hux watches him from the corner of his eye, growing more and more frustrated the longer the knight stares at him without approaching him or saying anything.

When Cyna almost slips out of her seat, Phasma announces that they better call it a night, and Hux is more than happy to agree. He watches her assist Cyna out of the lounge, chuckling at something Cyna is drunkenly muttering under her breath.

Hux turns his full attention to Ren, smirking when Ren’s eyes widen as if he’d just been caught with his hand in the Wookie-ookie jar. He lowers his head and glares at his half-empty drink when Hux gets out of his seat and sidles next to him.

“Come here often,” Hux jokes. He finishes his drink and motions to the bartender, raising two fingers and gesturing to his and Ren’s glasses.

“I’m good, thank you,” Ren says, but Hux pushes the new drink closer to his hand.

“Why did you come here if you weren’t planning on drinking?” Hux asks, leaning his elbow on the counter and turning his whole body towards Ren. He’s standing in the small space between Ren’s stool and the one next to it, alcohol making him brazen, as usual.

“I _am_ drinking,” Ren says, raising his glass to his lips and finally finishing his drink.

“Are you?” Hux steps even closer, smiling when Ren visibly twitches, subtly leaning away from him. “Or did you just come here to watch me?”

Ren scowls, reaching for the new drink and downing it in one gulp. Hux raises his eyebrows in surprise and chuckles.

“Well, you showed me,” he mutters, stepping back and taking a sip of his own drink.

“You should go to bed,” Ren says, eyes focused on the empty glass he’s clutching between his hands.

“If I leave, will you stay here and _’drink’_ some more?” Hux raises his hands and wiggles his fingers around the word, before laughing at Ren’s expression. The lounge is almost completely empty by now, but Ren sighs and looks around anyway, making sure nobody is paying them any attention.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Ren says, suddenly getting out of his seat and taking Hux’s drink from his hand. When Hux protests about letting a perfectly good drink go to waste, Ren finishes it himself. He extends his arm towards the exit, and instead of just walking out, Hux takes Ren’s outstretched hand and pulls him along.

“What are you doing?” Ren is furtively looking over his shoulder at the blessedly deserted corridor, almost stumbling on his feet as he tries to keep up with Hux’s quick pace. “Hux.”

“You said let’s get to bed,” he explains, turning the final corner towards his quarters.

“That’s not what I–“

Hux slams his free hand on the access pad to his door, pulling Ren inside with him. Once inside, he lets go of Ren’s hand and turns around, eyes sharp and arms crossed over his chest. He’s no longer smiling as he watches Ren fidget, stubbornly avoiding making eye contact.

“What is the matter with you?” Hux is in no mood to tiptoe around Ren, he’s far too tired and pissed, and if he doesn’t let this out right now, he’s going to explode. He fears it happening in front of other people, so he chooses to deal with it now.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ren answers, turning around and pacing around the room, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck.

“You are the most confusing creature I’ve ever had the misfortune of coming across,” Hux huffs out, pinching the bridge of his nose. Ren’s pacing is giving him a headache. “You kill your old master to protect me, and yet–“

Ren stops pacing, looks at Hux with apprehensive eyes, his breathing heavy.

“The night before Port Price, before Eldion,” Hux starts, lowering his hand and meeting Ren’s eyes with his own. “I had a dream that you came to my room. I was high on doze tablets, of course. Anyway, in the dream, you came to me, slipped into bed with me, cried while you asked me what to do. I don’t remember what it was about, but it felt real, like you were stuck on a problem, and you sought me out.”

Ren stays quiet, chewing on his lip, eyebrows knitted together.

“It felt…”

“What?” Ren finally asks, taking a step closer, his hands clenched by his sides.

Hux sighs and closes his eyes. “It almost felt like you needed me as much as I need you.”

 _Needed you,_ he wants to correct himself, but he doesn’t, because it wouldn’t be true and he’s tired of holding everything in.

When he opens his eyes, Ren is standing right in front of him, close enough that Hux feels his unsteady breath on his warm face.

“I did,” Ren whispers. “I do.”

“Then why–” Hux furrows his brow, licking his lips when his eyes dart down to Ren’s parted mouth then back up to his eyes. “Why haven’t you–? You’ve slept on my bed, you’ve inhabited my space. _Why have you not touched me?_ Do you not want me that way anymore?”

Ren shakes his head, raises his hands as if to grab Hux’s shoulders, but drops them uselessly to his sides again.

“Because I don’t deserve to,” he finally answers. “Because I don’t deserve you. But after what happened, I’ll be damned if I let anyone— _anything_ —take you out of my sight again.”

He takes a shaky breath, as if the confession has physically weakened him, and he makes to step away from Hux.

Hux grabs the cowl around his neck, halting his movement. There’s only a second of hesitation where their eyes meet, Ren’s hand grabbing Hux’s wrist against his chest on instinct, and then their bodies are pressed together, mouths wet and demanding against each other. Hux’s other hand reaches behind Ren’s head, fingers burying under thick dark waves. Ren grabs Hux by the hip, pulls him closer, before his hand rests on the small of Hux's back. 

Ren’s eyes are shut tight, eyebrows knitted as he opens his mouth to deepen the kiss. Hux, for his part, cannot close his eyes. They’re almost as hungry as Ren’s kisses, starved of this image for months, of Ren’s moles and freckles and lashes and scars. Ren moans, and Hux lets go of the cowl, wraps both arms around those broad shoulders he’s had to live without for so long, and practically climbs Ren’s body. Ren takes the hint, hooks his hands under Hux’s knees and lifts him easily, chasing Hux’s mouth when the movement jostles him away.

It doesn’t occur to Hux until they’re in the bedroom, their clothes shed and scattered all over the floor, limbs tangled, mouths locked, hips gyrating as they chase their orgasms with Ren’s every thrust inside his body. It happens when they reach it again, when Ren pulls him along just like the last time to their place somewhere in the stars—uncharted, untouched, unseen by anyone but the two of them:

Hux doesn’t feel the pain in his chest anymore.  
   
   
   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does that ending feel abrupt? I'm not sure, man, but I always knew it was going to end around Hux's pain finally leaving him. It was always caused by his love for Ren and his fear of losing him, and now that Snoke is gone, he's free of that fear. Sure, there are so many other ways for him to lose Ren, but with Snoke gone, they can face anything and everything together.
> 
> This is my first ever Kylux fanfic, my first story written under this name, and indeed, it's the first multi-chapter story I've ever finished. Although I've suffered anxiety throughout the process, and although it may not be everyone's cup of tea, and although there are probably some things that I would change or would have written differently, I'm proud of myself for sticking with this. So I'm patting myself on the back, and sitting back proudly as I release this story from my head out into the world.
> 
> Thank you to my loyal readers, those who started reading when I posted the first chapter, as well as those who'd just discovered this story later on and binge-read the chapters, who have endured my erratic update schedule ( _what schedule?!?_ ) and have left kudos and comments and sent me messages on tumblr. You guys pushed me to write outside of my comfort zone and kept me going. I love each and every one of you.
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://the-fluff-awakens.tumblr.com).


End file.
